


Say You Won't Let Go

by Celestial_Caster



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Amnesia, Anxiety, Fluff and Angst, Ghost Keith (Voltron), Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Temporary Amnesia, They/Them for Pidge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-18
Updated: 2017-09-05
Packaged: 2018-12-03 20:45:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 15
Words: 40,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11540118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Celestial_Caster/pseuds/Celestial_Caster
Summary: After being hospitalized for a serious accident, Lance comes home to his roommate, his cat, and a... strange ghost?Keith just wants to chill as a ghost, but his world turns upside down when he meets Lance, the only person who's ever been able to see him.Despite his own problems, Lance is dead set on helping him. It may be the death of Keith. For a second time.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic and an idea I haven't been able to shake for a few months, but I hope you enjoy! Next chapter should be up by the end of the week. 
> 
> If you wanna talk here's my tumblr, hmu fam  
> https://androgynoussnark.tumblr.com/ 
> 
> Also I hope some of you enjoy the dam reference in here ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After being hospitalized for a serious accident, Lance comes home to his roommate, his cat, and a... strange ghost?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first fic and an idea I haven't been able to shake for a few months. I hope you enjoy! It's honestly a wild ride from start to finish.
> 
> If you want to talk about this fic, life, or voltron in general, my tumblr is androgynoussnark
> 
> Also I hope some of you enjoy the dam reference in here ;)
> 
> EDIT: I've fixed some stuff that was bothering me in this chapter, probably not noticeable to most of you, but it made me feel better

“The doctor says you need to take it easy for the next few days, Lance. You can’t go back to school right away. You need to take your medicine twice a day and make sure to stay hydrated and-” 

Lance yawned and tuned out Shiro’s mile long list of things Lance could or couldn’t do. He had heard it all before, from his doctor, from the nurse, from Hunk in the car, and now from Shiro. He understood that everyone was a little worried and wanted his transition from the hospital back home to be as smooth as possible, but really, wasn’t this a little overkill? All Lance wanted to do was take a nap…

He rubbed his eyes and watched through blurry, drug-hazed eyes as Hunk held open the door so Pidge could carry Lance’s overnight bag into the apartment and Shiro as he organized Lance’s meds in the order that he would have to take them that day. Lance appreciated all that his friends were trying to do, but really, he was 20, goddammit, not 2. 

Noticing a bit of movement out of the corner of his eye, Lance’s eyes drifted to a stranger who was slouched on his couch, watching the busyness with a cautious and wary look. Hunk hadn’t mentioned a new roommate, but it was possible, since money was tight these days. Lance stepped forward and stuck out his hand. 

    “Hey, the name’s Lance.” 

The boy didn’t reply, or even move to shake his hand. Instead he looked at Lance with wide eyes, his thick eyebrows shooting up in surprise, his mouth slightly ajar. 

Lance scoffed and slowly drew back his hand and tried to ease the awkward tension. “What happened, cat got your tongue?” 

Lance smirked and mockingly modeled a pose that he had once seen on the cover of a beauty magazine. “I know I’m smokin’ hot, but I can’t say I’ve ever made anyone speechless before.”   
The boy blinked slowly and his eyebrows furrowed.

Before their interaction could continue, Hunk rested a gentle hand on Lance’s shoulder.  
    “Hey, you okay bud? For the record, your beauty makes me speechless.” 

Lance was about to quirk back with a comment that would really drive home his and Hunk’s bromance, but then Lance saw the worry in Hunk’s eyes and closed his mouth.

“Who are you talking to?”  
      
“Tinker Bell over there, who won’t say a damn word to me.” Lance said, pointing.

Hunk eyes drifted over Lance’s shoulder, but quickly returned to searching his face. Lance’s smile fell. 

    “Lance,” Hunk said gently, “there’s no one there.”

Lance swung around to look at the couch, only to come face to face with the silent boy, who hadn’t moved. 

    “What do you mean, he’s right there!” Lance gestured wildly. “It isn’t nice to play jokes on people who have just gotten out of the hospital you know.”

The two friends now had the attention of everyone in the room. Pidge started to move closer to Lance, an inch at a time, as if he was a wild animal about to bolt. Lance wasn’t having any of that, and stormed behind the silent stranger. He reached over the back of the couch and put his hands on the boy’s shoulders. The boy’s body instantly tightened and he shot up as if he had been struck by lightning. Lance’s grip remained firm though. 

    “You’re telling me that there’s no one here? Even though I’m physically touching him right now?”

    “Lance…” Shiro said soothingly. Pidge had made it to his side and was trying to soothingly rub his arm, even though he knew they felt awkward about it. 

    “Maybe you should sit down… you’ve had a long week.” They said nervously. 

Suddenly, Lance startled at the sound and sting of his hand being slapped, where they were still unconsciously twisting the ends of the stranger’s hair. No one else in the room even blinked. 

    “What the fuck, man?” The stranger growled. His voice seems hoarse with disuse, but Lance was immediately enraptured. “How the hell can you see me? Furthermore, how can you touch me?” 

Lance immediately stepped onto the defensive. “What the hell are you talking about, am I not supposed to see a regular human sitting on my couch? Everyone needs to stop making me think I’m crazy, because I’m not and this isn’t funny!” 

    “You’re telling me.” The boy muttered, his eyes darting to all of Lance’s friends. 

“You’re not crazy Lance, the doctors gave you a lot of medication and they said one of the side effects could be hallucinations.” Shiro suggested, as he and Pidge eased Lance onto the couch that the boy had been occupying a few moments ago. 

Now the boy towered over Lance and looked him dead in the eye. 

    “You shouldn’t be able to see me. No one else can see me.” This last part sounded slightly desperate. 

Lance opened his mouth to retort, but the mysterious boy was no longer standing in front of him. Lance glanced around the room, but the boy was just...gone. Disappeared into thin air. Lance blinked once, twice, and looked around again just to double check but the boy seemed to be truly gone. Hunk bustled around the kitchen and came back with a glass of water, which Lance took gratefully. 

    “The doctors said the hallucinations will probably fade in a few days, but if they don’t we’ll have to go back to the doctor to alter your medication dosages, so let someone know if they don’t stop, okay?” Shiro asked. 

    “Yeah, I guess that makes sense.” Lance said slowly, taking a sip of water.   
Lance had never experienced hallucinations before, but he couldn’t help feeling like that was a little too real…

    “Maybe I should stay home today,” Hunk fretted. 

Lance shook his head vigorously. “Nope. You have work and you’ve already taken off too much time to visit me in the hospital. The hallucinations will wear off soon, so I’m all good.”

“Well in that case, I need to get going to class.” Pidge said, slinging their bag over their shoulder. 

    “And that means I have to go teach a class.” Shiro said, ruffling Lance’s hair in that fatherly way he did sometimes. 

    Lance nudged Hunk. “That’s your cue to go too, buddy.”

Hunk scoffed. “Fine. But you better call me if you need anything.”

    “Right. That goes for all of us Lance. Don’t overdo anything today.”

    “Sure thing, Mom and Dad.” Lance made a mock salute with his hand. “I’m just gonna kick back with a lemonade or something and binge watch cartoons for the rest of the day, so you can relax.”

    Pidge rolled their eyes and ushered Shiro and Hunk out the door, calling their goodbyes to Lance before the door to the apartment slammed behind them. Lance sighed and sank into the couch. He’d been gone so long that the couch crease he had put all that effort into making was gone. Guess he’d have to work on remaking it. 

With everyone gone, the apartment was quiet. It felt unnatural to Lance, who had dealt with his friends fussing over him for the past few days, as well as doctors and the constant beeping of machines at all hours of the day. It had been a few days since Lance woke up in a hospital bed, the smell of disinfectant strong and the white coloring of everything overbearing his senses that had previously been bathed in darkness. 

In this newfound quiet, Lance found his thoughts drifting to the boy. He looked around, but there was no sign of the boy anywhere. The way Lance saw it, there was two options here. Either the boy was a drug induced hallucination or he was a ghost. Lance shivered at the thought of the latter. What if he was here to take revenge for something one of Lance’s ancestors has done or something like that? Isn’t that how those movies usually go? But then again, he didn’t seem particularly violent. Angry, maybe. But mostly, he seemed...surprised? Lance eyed the apartment warily. 

    “Hey, Mullet, are you there?”

No reply. Well, it was worth a shot. Lance closed his eyes and fell asleep to the embrace of a  drug-induced sleep.

Over the next few days, people came and went, wishing Lance their best. His friends made sure his every need was met and remind him when he’s supposed to take his meds. He called his family and let them know that he’s okay and had been discharged from the hospital. He thanked everyone and gave them all his brightest smile and loudest laugh, but to be honest, he was exhausted. He thought at this point all the drugs he had been given during his hospital stay had worn off. 

However, the thought of the mysterious boy hadn’t gone away. He hadn’t seen him since the day he came back home. But he knew he was there, especially now that most of the painkillers had worn off.  It was the little things, the fact that sometimes Lance would find some of his books moved, with pages dog-earred. This guy seemed to have a strong love for comic books and books about space and about flight. Or sometimes it was things around the apartment. For instance, one day when Lance was feeling particularly frustrated about not being able to leave his apartment and broke the hinge on his DS, he found it sitting on the counter completely fixed a few hours later.

Sometimes Lance would find his normally easy-going cat, Blue, looking thoroughly harassed, even if no one was there. He could hear Blue’s claws sliding across the hardwood floor as she leapt towards some type of prey, but everytime Lance went to check on her, she just looked up at him with large kitty eyes and empty paws. 

Lance’s friends kept coming over at various points of the week, and obviously Hunk came home everyday after going to school and then working for a few hours, but Lance never mentioned the boy to any of them again. It was pretty clear that for whatever reason, they couldn’t see him and Lance didn’t want his friends to think he had gone mental and put him back in the hospital. During the stretches of time that his friends are too busy to come over, Lance watched movies and played with Blue, but was bored out of his mind for the most part. 

After about a week of these random incidents happening in his apartment, Lance decided he needs to take action. He’d been calling out for the boy when he was home alone, but he never gets a response. Maybe the mysterious boy didn’t know his name was Mullet now. He thought about the boy’s long, dark hair and pale figure and formed a plan. If this hallucination-ghost-kid wouldn’t come out willingly, Lance would lure him out. 

The next morning, Lance waited for Hunk to go to work and then left the apartment. His friends were still being really touchy about Lance leaving the apartment, even though he had explained to them that he felt fine. Nevertheless, Lance was determined to see the strange boy again. Besides that, it was nice to get some fresh air after being stuck in the apartment all week.

He made one quick stop to buy the supplies he needed and went back home.  

With his cat under one arm and a McDonald’s happy meal under the other, Lance walked through the rooms of his apartment, finally stopping in his bedroom, where Blue seemed the most on edge. 

“Come out, come out wherever you are.” Lance cooed. “I got your favorite food to share with all your undead friends.” He shook the red cardboard box, peering around the room and under the bed.

    “I don’t even like McDonald’s.” Lance jumped as a voice materialized directly behind him. He swung around to find the boy standing there with his arms crossed and a signature scowl on his face. 

“Really? But I read about it in this book one time and the kid looked just like you! More emo though maybe and less 80’s angst…” Lance said thoughtfully as he surveyed the strange boy who he was now fairly sure was not a hallucination. The boy rolled his eyes. 

    “Great. What do you want?” 

    “Want?” Lance asked. “I don’t know. Nothing? Am I supposed to want something?” 

    The boy narrowed his eyes. “You’ve been harassing me for a solid week and you don’t even know why?”

“No? I mean, you’re a ghost, ya know?” Lance said, as if this explained everything. 

Clearly this was not the right answer, as the boy’s scowl deepened. 

    “And your damn cat!” He seethed, gesturing wildly at Blue, who was still tucked under Lance’s arm, but had her ears pinned back and flicked her tail angrily at the boy. “That damn animal keeps attacking me! Every time I’m just minding my own business that thing just comes along and tries to bite me!”

Lance hugged Blue to his chest defensively. 

    “Blue is not a ‘thing’ or an ‘it’. She’s the best Russian Blue a guy could have. She’s also the sweetest and the best so clearly it’s all your fault that she keeps attacking you. I mean can you blame her, you’re a ghost!” Lance faltered. “You are a ghost, right?” 

The boy looked down at himself and rubbed the back of his head self consciously. 

    “Yeah, I guess. This is kind of a new situation for me, I think.”

    “What do you mean ‘I thi-”

Suddenly, the boys heard the turning of a key in the lock of the front door to the apartment. 

The boy glanced to the door and Lance grabbed his hand before he could fade away like he did before. Lance was pleasantly surprised when he could actually feel the boy’s skin. The boy had slapped him earlier, but Lance had thought that maybe his hand would just pass straight through the boy’s form. He was also unexpectedly warm. In books, they always talked about ghosts being cold, but Lance was pretty sure that this guy’s hand was warmer than Lance’s has ever been. The ghost’s eyes flickered from the door to Lance’s face.

    “You’ll come back, right?” Lance asked. “It gets pretty boring here with just me and Blue chilling here all day.”

He looked once more towards the door as it started to swing open, quickly returning his eye’s to Lance’s. He hesitated for a moment. 

    “Maybe.” 

He faded from view just as Hunk opened the door all the way and Lance was left standing in his bedroom with a cat under his arm and an unopened Happy Meal in his hand.

Hunk popped his head into the bedroom.   
“Hey, I forgot some stuff here. Have you seen that envelope that was on the tab- Is that a Happy Meal?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance meets a ghost. Officially. Keith meets a cat. Unofficially.

The next day, Lance was halfway through rewatching his favorite show in the living room when he heard the sound of Blue’s claws scrabbling across the floor. Excitement rose in Lance’s chest as he leapt to his feet and flung open his bedroom door. 

The mysterious boy was crouched on Lance’s bed while Blue hissed loudly from the floor, all the hair on her back raised. The boy glared at Blue, brushing the dark hair from his eyes. If looks could kill, Lance wasn’t sure who’s would be more lethal, but the tension was thick in the air. When the door slammed into the wall, the boy stopped his staring contest with Blue to meet eyes with Lance. 

This provided Blue with the perfect opportunity and she vaulted onto the bed, directly between the boy’s legs. He yelped and fell off the bed, sprawled on the floor, dragging Lance’s dark blue comforter with him. Lance peered down at him. 

“Man, what do you have against my cat?” 

“Nothing! I don’t know why your dumb cat hates me!” The boy scowled.

“I don’t know, maybe my cat doesn’t like strangers with mullets right out of the 80’s.”

The boy rolled his eyes and picked himself up from off the ground. 

“Whatever. Just keep that vicious thing away from me.” He muttered. 

Lance sat on the edge of his bed and scratched Blue under her chin. 

“Dude, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Blue is literally the sweetest thing ever. Sure, she came off the streets, so she’s pretty badass, but she wouldn’t hurt a fly!”

The glare in the boy’s eyes seemed to soften. He took a step forward. 

“She was a feral cat?” 

“Yep. I got her about a year ago when we kept seeing her lurking around my friend Allura’s family store. She used to hiss at everyone and scratch anyone who tried to pet her.” Lance moved his hand up to scratch her ear. 

“So how did you get her?” The boy asked. His arms were folded against his chest, but he seemed intrigued. 

“Well, we were supposed to have this huge storm and I was worried she wouldn’t have any place to go. Pidge said that I would never be able to catch her and that she would never warm up to anyone, but somehow I coaxed her into a cardboard box with some food that Allura gave me and I gave her some TLC.” Blue purred loudly as he continued rubbing her ear.

“She may hate me, but she’s sure warmed up to you.” The boy noted. 

“Hell yeah, man, me and Blue are best buds.” Lance smirked. 

Blue rubbed her head against Lance’s wrist and placed her front paws on his thighs. The boy moved to pet her, but she sensed his movement and whirled around to hiss at him. Lance soothed her with a scratch under the chin. 

“She gets uneasy about people touching her back, probably because of some past abuse she had.” Lance patted the part of the bed next to him. “Come sit here and scratch by her ears.” 

The boy hesitated for a moment before sitting about a foot away from Lance. The bedsheet is barely wrinkled, just a hint of a shadow that suggests added weight. 

He slowly reached out a hand and allowed Blue to sniff it. Then, even slower if that were possible, he scratched her behind the ears. Blue’s cold gaze remained on his for a moment before she slowly closed her eyes and leaned into his touch, purring softly. 

“See? Now you’ve made a friend for life.” Lance said, easing back onto his palms. 

The boy doesn’t say anything, his focus entirely on pleasing the cat who wanted to claw his eyes out a few minutes prior. Lance decided that now may be a good time to address the elephant in the room, since this guy is no longer looking at him warily. 

“Speaking of which, are you going to explain to me who you are and why none of my friends can see you?”

The boy’s focus is broken and he made eye contact with Lance. His eyes are hardened with the steel of an impenetrable fortress, one impossible for any ordinary person to break through.

Lucky for Lance, he’s not any ordinary person. He has charm. 

“Why do you want to know?” 

“Oh gee, I don’t know, maybe ‘cause you’re some kind of ghost or hallucination living in my house that’s making everyone, including myself, think I’m losing my mind?”

The boy exhaled and gave a short laugh. His shoulders are still drawn with tenseness.

“I guess that’s a pretty good reason. But yeah, I guess I’m a ghost.”

“You guess?” The boy nods. “How did you die?” Lance questioned. 

“I don’t know.”

“When did you live?” Lance tried.

“I don’t know.”

“Why are you in my apartment?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you know?” Lance asked, exasperated. The fortress within Keith’s eyes lowers it defenses for a moment and Lance sees something unrecognizable there. 

“My name is Keith. That’s all I remember.” 

Keith. Keith. Keith. 

The name rang over and over again in Lance’s head like a church bell. It sent shivers down his spine. There was something familiar about that name, something that made Lance think it fit Keith like a glove. He wasn’t quite sure why, because he was positive that he had never seen Keith before that day that he came back to his apartment. Lance pulled himself back to Earth and realized the Keith was shifting uncomfortably, waiting for Lance to say something. 

“Well if it makes you feel any better, I’m the same, well, sort of.” Lance rubbed the back of his neck. 

“Huh?” Keith looked at him, confused.

“I mean, I’m not a ghost. Obviously…” Lance laughed stiffly.

Lance wasn’t sure he had quite come to terms with this issue yet, but he could tell that Keith was a little uncertain about sharing this information and if it made him feel more comfortable, it might be worth sharing his own problems. 

“What I mean is, I’ve also lost a portion of my memories. Not all of them, but the doctors speculate like maybe most of a year or two’s worth. It’s not as bad as not being able to remember anything about yourself, but I can understand your pain to some extent, so you know, it’s okay,” Lance babbled. 

Keith looked shocked but then quirked a small smile, which warmed some unknowable part inside Lance enough to make him stop talking. 

“Thanks. That must be challenging to deal with too, especially since you have people around you who expect you to remember those things.” 

Lance stiffened and looks at Keith. Keith is staring back at Lance as if he can see something Lance can’t, as if he can see straight through Lance to his soul. That wasn’t a power of ghosts, right?!

Lance coughed and averted his eyes. “Yeah, I kinda feel like I’m letting everyone down. They don’t say anything about it, but sometimes there’s this silence where it feels like everyone’s waiting for me to say the punchline to an inside joke that I don’t know or these glances like everyone should be walking on eggshells around me.”

Lance clenched his fist and bowed his head. “It’s really frustrating. I’m not broken or fragile. I plan on getting all those memories back.”

“I’m sure you will. If anyone could fight a battle with their brain and win, you look like you have the resolve to.” Keith said quietly. 

Lance laughed and sat up. “You make it sound like some cheesy anime where the odds against the main character look impossible but through the power of ‘friendship’,” Lance made a wide gesture with his hands, “anything is possible.”

Keith shrugged. “But isn’t it? I mean, there’s a fucking ghost sitting on your bed, dude. That may be the dictionary definition of ‘anything is possible’.”

They both started laughing. Lance fell backwards onto his bed, making Blue jump off the comforter, and spread his limbs to take up as much room as humanly possible. 

“So you really don’t remember anything? No one you knew or anything you did?” Lance asked. 

Suddenly, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and in a second, his face, which was contorted into the stupidest face Keith thought he had ever seen in his life (death?) was lit by the flashlight feature. “Got any ghost stories, Mullet?” 

“Yes. Once upon a time there was a boy,” Keith gestured wildly, wriggling his fingers. 

They laughed again, and Keith crossed his legs and leaned back on his palms.

“But seriously, I just woke up one day and I was here. I tried asking your roommate,” He paused, “ Hunk right?, I tried asking him where I was, but no matter how I tried to get his attention, he couldn’t see me. By the time you came home, I had accepted my fate and was planning to live out the rest of my days as a ghost, just floating through the days.”

“That is,” Keith amended thoughtfully, “until you came along and decided that you weren’t going to stop annoying me.”

“Holy shit!” Lance exclaimed, shooting upright, one side of his hair disheveled from pressing the side of his face into the bed. Keith flinched away from him, like Blue when he had tried to pet her back.

“That means you just became a ghost recently, right? Or your spirit just surfaced or whatever. Is that why you were pouting the day I came home?”

“...I don’t pout.” Keith said, pouting. 

Lance grinned. “Dude, you totally pout.”

“Well what about you?” Keith asked, choosing to ignore Lance. “What happened to you to make you lose your memories? If you don’t mind me asking, that is.” He asked hesitantly.

Lance sighed and laid back down on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, which was plastered in glow in the dark stars. 

“Obviously, I can’t really remember. My friends and the doctors had to fill me in afterwards. That’s maybe the strangest part of this whole thing. Having something affect your life so dramatically and not being able to remember it.”

“Tell me about it.” Keith rolled his eyes. 

“According to everyone else, I broke up with my girlfriend, Nyma. I sort of remember that, although it’s a bit hazy. I went driving, because that’s what I do when I’m upset,” Lance explained. Although he had been a little reluctant to share the details before, it was like a dam had been opened and all his feelings flooded through. 

“The beach used to be within walking distance of my house but since I moved here to go to school, it’s a bit of a drive. On my way there, it started raining and I got into a car accident. No one really knows what caused the accident because I was by myself, but I was unconscious and severely injured.”

He rubbed his arms with his hands, and when Keith looked, he could see pinkish scars, mostly on his right arm from where the glass had cut him.

“Even though I was seatbelted in, the doctors said I slammed my head. The next thing I know, that I actually know, is I was waking up in a hospital bed with a million tubes running into my veins, trying to remember what had put me there.” Lance’s hands had moved from his arms to his chin, rubbing it slowly. 

“God, that’s awful, Lance. I’m so sorry.” Keith lamented. 

Lance took a shaky breath. “No, it’s okay. It should be a really personal story, but it doesn’t feel like it. I can’t remember any of the accident, so it just feels like I’m repeating a story that belongs to someone else. No one else was hurt, and I lived, so if the worst I have to deal with is regaining my memories, that’s not so awful, right? That’s possible.” He rolled back over towards Keith, who was still sitting with his legs crossed, but now was pulling at his fingers.

“You’re the first person I’ve really talked to about the accident. Everyone else was there when the doctors explained what happened and Shiro called my family, so I didn’t even have to explain it to them. I don’t know why I told you, a stranger, a ghost, I just met, but it feels like a weight has been lifted, however small.” Lance took another deep breath. 

“I guess what I’m trying to say is thanks. It’s nice to have someone who gets it.”

“Anytime.” Keith replied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mystery boy has a name now, good for him. 
> 
> Also I feel it's important to note that in my notes this chapter is called 'Cats Don't Advance Plot'.
> 
> I beg to differ. 
> 
> Anyways, thanks for reading you guys! Next chapter will be up by Tuesday.
> 
> As always, my tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/androgynoussnark


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> no better way to have a bonding moment than by playing video games

“Your sword broke!” Lance yelped. “Quick replace it with something else… the flame blade would probably be pretty effective.”

“Okay, and then I’ll charge up an attack against this dude.” Keith replied. 

Keith mashed on the buttons of the controller. On the television screen, Link swung his sword, landing a powerful hit on the enemy. 

“Oh my god, you’re so close!” Lance agonized as the health bar above the boss’s head decreased. 

“Dammit!” Keith screeched as Link got slammed into the ground, knocking off several hearts from his own health bar. 

“Shit! Shit! Shit! Eat! Eat! Eat!” Lance chanted, pumping his fists wildly. 

Keith opened the game menu and ate several meals he had prepared beforehand. He was just about to exit back into the fight when Lance’s phone rang. 

“Ah, hang on a second.” Lance said, breezing off of the couch and towards the sound of his phone.

Hunk was working and Lance and Keith had been bored, so Lance decided to teach Keith how to play Breath of the Wild. They had spent several hours playing Lance’s save file, conquering the dungeon and were finally about to decimate one of the bosses that possessed the guardians. 

During the past few hours, Keith had felt happy and, for lack of a better word, alive. 

He hadn’t been sure what to think of Lance at first, this strange, loud boy who could see Keith, who had been invisible to the rest of the world in an unfamiliar setting. He supposed that Lance hadn’t known what to do with him, the strange ghost freeloading in his apartment, either. Even so, for the few weeks they had been together, Lance treated him like they had been friends for years and like Keith was… normal. They seemed to be becoming fast friends. At least, Keith hoped they were.

He had convinced himself that he could live out the rest of his existence as a ghost and that he didn’t need anyone, that he could live peacefully, but in all honestly, Keith had been frightened and lonely. It wasn’t like there was a manual for a boy turning into a ghost and living in some college kid’s apartment after all. 

Lance strode out of his bedroom, with his cellphone stuck to his ear. He paced from his bedroom door to the kitchen and then to the other side of the living room while speaking. It wasn’t that he was stressed out, it was this little quirk Keith noticed he had, that when he spoke on the phone he had to pace around his house. 

“Si, Mamá, I’m fine, I’ve been taking my meds and Hunk’s been cooking me these really healthy dinners for the past few days. No, they’re definitely not as good as your’s Mamá, although Hunk is an amazing cook as well. How are the kids?” Lance asked, swiftly moving away from the topic of whose cooking was better. 

Keith could hear his mother on the other end, just as loud as Lance was. 

Sometimes Keith could hear her laugh and it was always loud and joyous, it seemed like the sort of laugh that would fill a room and a heart. She called to check in on Lance everyday and by the way he smiled when he spoke, it was clear that he loved her deeply and with passion.

Lance laughed, paced to the kitchen again, and then said “I’m just playing video games with a friend right now, so I’m not overworking myself.” 

Suddenly, Keith heard Lance’s mother’s voice become rather heated. “The doctors said I couldn’t watch television, they didn’t say anything about playing video games!” 

Keith could now clearly hear Lance’s mother scolding him. Lance pulled the phone away from his ear, and grinned at Keith. Keith rolled his eyes. 

“Put your poor mother out of her misery, you awful son.” He chided.

Lance laughed and brought the phone back to his ear. 

“Mamá! Mamá, Listen!” His mother’s rant abruptly stopped. “I was just kidding, the doctor cleared me yesterday for a few hours of television. I’m taking care of myself, I swear.”

Keith heard the joyous laugh once again. 

“Mmhmm, I won’t scare you like that again, I promise, Mamá. Yep. yep. Alright, I’ll talk to you later, Mamá.” Lance beamed into the phone. Keith hoped his mother could hear his smile, it was the biggest, brightest thing in the room. 

“Yo tambien te amo.” 

A minute later, Lance hung up the phone and he plopped down on the couch. Keith clicked play and the two of them were launched back into the fight. 

“Parry! He’s going to stab you!” Lance shouted. 

“Not if I stab him first!” Keith bellowed.  
He mashed the buttons furiously, and the health bar kept dropping. There was only a small sliver left, and Keith ducked out of the way as the boss lunged towards him.

Seeing another opening, he plunged back in and started furiously mashing the buttons again. One slash. Two. Three. Lance and Keith screamed in unison as Keith pounded the buttons and suddenly the boss dissipated in an explosion of light and smoke. The corruption around the final terminal also disappeared. The two boys screamed even louder. Lance jumped off the couch and did and jumped up and down, Keith punched the air. 

As the heart piece floated down, Keith collected it. He activated the terminal and the two boys fell silent as the cutscene played. 

When it was over, Keith took a deep breath and cracked the fingers on his hand. Lance launched himself backwards on the couch. 

“That was so cool! This game is so cool!” 

The two boys lapsed into silence as Keith entered the village to talk to the townspeople and restock on supplies. Suddenly, Lance shifted, his eyes focusing on Keith rather than the game. 

“Hey, Keith, I’ve been thinking.”

“Well, that’s new.”

Lance side-eyed him. “Haha. So funny. I’ve never heard that one from Pidge before.”

Keith smirked.

“But you know how the spirits in this game all have this deep regret that they’ve died before defeating Ganon?” 

Keith quirked an eyebrow at him. “Yes?”

“Do you have any regrets?”

“What you mean like defeating a giant prince of darkness who wants to conquer the kingdom? Yep, definitely.” 

Lance sat up straight. “Come on, be serious for a minute. You told me you had accepted the fact that you’re a ghost and that you were content to be that way, but like, do you never wonder about your old life? Your family? Are you sure you don’t have any unfinished business?”

Keith pondered this for a second. “Woah, that’s a lot, man. Not as far as I know.” He shrugged. “And what good would it be for me to know? I’m a ghost, not a human. No one except for you can see me, for whatever reason and I’m not even sure I can leave this apartment.”

“It would give you... a sense of identity.”

“Ghosts don’t need identity.”

“That’s not true. Ghosts have regrets, and not having a sense of identity is regretful.”

“Lance, I have an identity.”

“Oh yeah? Prove it.” Lance challenged. 

“My name is Keith and I’m a ghost who babysits a 20-something year old child who tells me to “prove it.” He deadpanned. 

“Look,” Lance said, “I just can’t stop thinking about how awful I feel at missing out on a portion of my life, nevermind forgetting my whole life. The must be so terrible and I don’t want you to have any regrets, in your afterlife at least.” 

Keith sighed and twirled the controller in his hand. 

“I’ll think about it, okay?” Keith consented. “Maybe I-”

A sharp rap at the door cut Keith off. Lance got up to answer the door and Keith put down the controller. He wasn’t sure what Lance’s friends would think if a controller was just randomly floating around. Or maybe the controller became invisible like Keith.

Better to be safe than sorry.

Hunk, Pidge, and Shiro were standing in the doorway, along with a girl that Keith had never seen before. She had long, beautiful white hair that Keith was sure she must dye, but looked so natural on her that it’s debatable that she wasn’t born with it. 

“Allura! I haven’t seen you in forever!” Lance beamed. He hugged the girl, who placed her hand on his shoulder. 

“Sorry. I wanted to come visit a few days after you were released from the hospital, but I got caught up in work.”

Lance led the group into the living room.   
“Woah, you’re this far in Breath of the Wild? I’ve only beat one of the guardians so far.” Hunk said, gazing at the screen. Shiro frowned disapprovingly. 

“Lance, are you supposed to be staring at screens for that long yet?” He asked.

Lance waved a hand at him dismissively. “You’re as bad as my mother, Shiro. The doctor cleared me yesterday.”

“Yeah, I’m surprised you didn’t know,” Pidge said, entering the room with a can of soda. 

She pulled the tab and the can opened with a satisfying hiss. She sat down on the couch, nearly on top of Keith.

“Rude!” He said, sliding over to give Pidge the space they didn’t know they were missing. 

“Lance hasn’t stopped texting me since he got back from his doctor’s appointment yesterday. He said he needs to make up on the memes and shitposting he’s missed.” Pidge continued, rolling their eyes. 

“It’s very serious business.” Lance confirmed. “Anyways, I have some actual serious business to tell you guys.”

“Are you okay?” Allura asked. “The doctor didn’t tell you that you had any new problems, right?”

“Yeah, no, we’re cool. It’s just that I think I’m going to go back to school next week. I got a doctor’s note and everything.”

Well, this is the first time Keith was hearing about this. Apparently it’s a first for the rest of the group as well. 

“Are you sure, bro?” Hunk questioned. 

“Did you tell your doctor about that weird hallucination you had on the first day?” Pidge asked. 

Lance shook his head. “You said it was a common side-effect of the medication.”

Shiro’s eyebrows furrowed. “Even still, I don’t know if it’s a good idea, Lance. What if it happens again with the stress of being back at school? Have you had any more hallucinations since then?”

“No. I can’t stay here all day by myself. It’s so boring! It’s killing me!!” Lance said desperately. 

“Rude!” Keith said again. Lance pushed Pidge over and sat down next to Keith, so that their arms were brushing up against one another. Keith glanced at him, but didn’t move away, so he threw a leg over Pidge’s lap, much to their disdain. 

“I need to start putting my life back to normal.” Lance amended.

Shiro sighed and rubbed his prosthetic arm self consciously. Lance knew he was thinking about the accident that claimed his arm a few years ago and severely disrupted his own life. It took months of physical therapy and counseling to get himself back on track. 

“Fine, since your doctor wrote off on it. But you should check in with the nurse between classes so she can keep an eye on you.”

Lance beamed. Sure, he’s lost a lot of his memories from the past year or two, and sure, his friends are worried about him, and sure there’s a ghost sitting next to him, but he was sure that this is the first step to finding something normal again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think "not if I stab him first" is the most canon Keith line I've ever written. 
> 
> I swear there will be actual plot next chapter and not just me projecting onto these characters. I mean, I'll still be projecting, but I promise this fic actually has a story to it XD
> 
> Here's my tumblr if you want to get in touch: https://androgynoussnark.tumblr.com/


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Garrison trio hangs out and there's some confusion over Keith's circumstances as a ghost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the few mistakes in here, I'm camping rn so it's hard to edit. Also a very happy birthday to everyone's favourite sharpshooter, Lance! Enjoy, everyone!

A few days later, Lance found himself at Pidge’s house. It had been a while since Hunk, Lance, and Pidge had had a movie marathon. Or maybe it hadn’t been, Lance couldn’t really remember. 

Either way, he was excited to spend some time with his friends. Pidge had sworn up and down that they were going to have a movie marathon before Lance went back to school, and this happened to be the one day all three of them were free to do it.

Lance knocked on the door of the Holt’s house and a scrawny guy who looked like a carbon copy of Pidge opened the door. 

“Hey Lance.” The boy said warmly. “Good to see you.”

“Hey Matt.” Lance held out a fist and Matt bumped it with his own. 

“Pidge is in the living room with Hunk already.”

Lance nodded and made his way to the stairs, shouting a hello to Mr and Mrs. Holt, who were both in the kitchen. Hunk and Pidge were sorting through movies on the living room floor. 

“How about this one?” Pidge asked, holding up a DVD case.

“Nah, too...explosion-y.” Hunk said. “This one?”

“Ugh, too romantic. I’m not in the mood for three of those films.”

“How about a classic Harry Potter marathon?” Lance asked. The two of them look up at him and then back at each other. 

“I’m okay with that.” Pidge said. 

“Yeah, that sounds pretty good, actually. It’s been awhile since we’ve seen them.”

“I’ll put the movie in.” Hunk said.

“I’ll make the popcorn.” Lance quipped.

“I’ll get the blankets!” Pidge said, running from the room. 

“Dibs on the Gryffindor one!” Lance called after them.

Soon after, the scent of buttered popcorn filled the air. The three of them were snuggled in blankets on the Holt’s couch in the darkened room. The theme music for Harry Potter started playing and the three of them sang along. The smell of popcorn lured Matt into the room and he stole a handful from Pidge before they swatted at him and he ran away.

Lance let the warmth coddle him and just enjoys hanging out with his friends. They cheer when Harry is sorted into Gryffindor and Pidge goes into their usual rant on why Draco Malfoy is an undervalued character. (“Look, I can’t help that the movies just show him as an asshole. All I’m saying is that kid was fucking amazing in the books. I mean who the hell writes a song just to make fun of someone?!”) 

For a while, it felt like the old days, before the accident, before everyone started treating him like he was a package that said FRAGILE: THIS WAY UP.

Just as Hunk was starting the third film, Lance peeled back the red and gold blanket he was under and untangled his legs from Pidge’s. 

“I’m going to go make some more popcorn. Anyone want anything?”

“Soda!” Pidge chirped. 

“Ditto, dude.” Hunk said. 

Lance shot a pair of finger guns and made his way towards the kitchen. Matt had gone out and Mr. and Mrs. Holt had gone to bed by now, so the house is eerily silent as Lance moved out of range of the TV and the sound of Pidge and Hunk’s chattering. 

He pulled out two sodas and a pitcher of lemonade out of the fridge. Holding a glass, he poured the lemonade. 

Suddenly the silence was broken. 

“Lance? Where am I?” 

Lance jumped, dropping the glass. It hit the floor and shattered, scattering glass and lemonade all over the floor. He swung around to see a familiar face covered in a mop of black hair. 

“Keith?!” He exclaimed. 

“Lance? What was that? Are you okay?” Hunk called from the living room. 

Lance hastily snapped up. “Yeah, it’s okay!” He called back, “I just broke a glass.” 

“Do you need help cleaning it up?”

“Nah, it’s okay, bro. I got it.” 

“Keith.” Lance hissed in a hushed tone. “What are you doing here?” 

“I don’t know. One moment, I’m in your apartment, and the next, I’m here, standing in the hallway of this house.”

Lance pulled out the garbage can from under the sink and started carefully placing the glass pieces into it. 

“You’re at Pidge’s house,” he said quietly, “but I don’t understand, I thought you couldn’t leave the apartment.”

“I thought so too, but I don’t know what’s going on.” 

Keith grabbed a bunch of paper towels and started mopping up the spilled lemonade. 

Lance looked up. Keith’s eyebrows were furrowed and as he pushed the hair out of his eyes, Lance realized that they’re a cold color, highlighted with a glimmer of something there. 

Fear. 

“Ow!” Lance cried suddenly. He looked back down and realized that somehow he had cut himself on a piece of the glass he was picking up. Blood ran down his finger and for a moment, he just stared. 

“Lance!” Keith grabbed his injured hand and looked at the wound. Lance hissed. “Are you crying?” Keith fretted. 

Lance took a shaky breath. “You just got lemonade in the cut.”

“Oh! Sorry!” Keith said, dropping his hand to Lance’s wrist. “Let me bandage that though.”

Lance and Keith trudged towards Pidge’s bathroom and for a moment Lance pondered what it would look like if someone came to check on him, considering that Keith still hasn’t let go of his wrist and is pulling him through the house even though he doesn’t know where he’s going. Lance opened the closet in the bathroom, finding bandages on the top shelf. Lance sat down on the closed toilet lid while Keith rinsed the remnants of lemonade from his hands.

The two boys were silent as Keith slowly wound the bandage around the gash on Lance’s hand. 

“This is a pretty deep cut, but probably not bad enough for stitches.” Keith said examining the cut. 

“That’s good. I don’t want to go back to the hospital.” Lance said, wrinkling his nose. “You’re pretty good at this.”

“Yeah,” Keith said quietly. “I feel like I’ve done this a lot.”

“Do you think you were a doctor or something?” Lance asked. 

Keith snorted. “No way. It’s more like the feeling that I watched someone else do this for me a million times. It’s just a familiar feeling, kind of like,” he paused, “Déjà vu. Y’know?” 

Lance nodded and Keith taped off the edge of the bandage. Hunk poked his head into the bathroom. Keith hastily dropped his hand. 

“Lance, are you okay? Woah, what happened to your hand?” 

“It’s okay, I just cut it on the glass I broke. It’s not too deep.” Lance dismissed. 

Hunk took Lance’s hand and looked over the bandage. 

“Well, you did a good job wrapping it up, especially considering it’s your dominant hand. I’ll help you clean up the rest of the glass.”

As they exited the bathroom, Lance grinned at Keith, who merely stared back. 

After Hunk and Lance had wiped the last of the lemonade from off the floor, Hunk took the two sodas and retreated back to the living room. 

Lance placed the bag of popcorn in the microwave and entered the time. Keith perched on the kitchen counter. 

“So what exactly happened tonight?” Lance asked, now that the chaos is taken care of.

Keith drummed his fingers on the edge of the counter. “Like I was saying, I don’t know. I was alone in the apartment for a few hours and suddenly there was this…” He gestured vaguely to his chest in a grasping motion, “tugging feeling, I guess. It felt like I couldn’t keep my eyes open anymore, so I closed them and when I reopened them, I was here.”

“Hmm, that’s weird. Even if you don’t have a restriction to where your spirit can be, I don’t know why you would be drawn to here. Did you know the Holt’s in your past life?”

“No! I...I don’t know.” Keith said desperately. He clutched at his head. “I’ve never seen Pidge before, and if I have, I don’t remember it, but it feels like there’s something I’m missing. It’s like something’s on the tip of my tongue but no matter what…” Keith looked up and Lance saw the desperation and hurt in his eyes.

“I just want to belong somewhere where I can understand what’s going on.” He finished.

The look on Keith’s face wasn’t a look that suited him and Lance wanted to wipe it off his face. The Keith that Lance had always seen was always resolute. The Keith that pouted when Lance made fun of him, the Keith that had such fierce concentration when he was trying to do something, the Keith that laughed when he and Lance were bantering together. 

A memory of Keith’s smile, small, but bright and pure, appeared at the forefront of Lance’s mind. That was the Keith he wanted to see now, not this wounded animal who had all but given up hope. 

Lance stepped forward and he pried the hands that were gripping the counter for dear life off, taking them in his own. His eyes met Keith’s. 

“Hey. We’ll figure this out. That’s why we’re gonna try to find your memories, right? And besides, I’m here to help you because that’s what friends are for.”

Keith was staring at Lance and it made him feel like he had said something wrong, so a little more hesitantly he said, “Right?”

Keith gave a small nod and quickly pulled his eyes away from Lance’s. His face looked quite red, but maybe it was just the dim lighting of the kitchen. 

Suddenly, the popcorn in the microwave started popping quicker than any popcorn Lance had ever seen in his life. The bag swelled like it was going to burst. 

“Oh shit!” Lance dropped Keith’s hands in favor of slamming open the microwave and ripping the bag from its clutches. 

“Oh my god!” Lance said, flinging the bag onto the counter and waving his hands in the air. “That’s so hot!”

“You idiot! Put them under cold water!” Keith said, vaulting off the countertop and turning the tap on.

Lance plunged his uninjured hand under the stream, as well as much of his injured hand as he could without getting the bandages wet. 

“I’m sorry, I think that was my fault.” Keith said quietly, watching as Lance released the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. 

“What do you mean?” Lance asked, turning off the tap and drying his hands.

“My body heated up for a moment,” Keith shrugged, “and then the microwave malfunctioned.” Keith said, looking at the floor. 

Lance reached out to touch Keith’s forehead and feel his body temperature. He quickly pulled his hand away.

“Dude, what the hell, aren’t ghosts supposed to be cold? Well, either way, I guess I know who I’ll be sending next time to make the popcorn.” Lance grinned and Keith gave a half laugh. 

It relieved Lance to no longer see Keith wearing the expression he had been before. 

Cautiously, Lance took the bag of popcorn off the counter and opened it. Steam poured out of the bag, but it was no longer scalding to the touch and the popcorn looked white and buttery. 

“Do you want to come watch Harry Potter with us?” Lance questioned. “We’ve probably missed a good portion of the third, which is my favorite, but it’s the ending that’s the best anyway.”

“Sure, as long as you don’t hog the couch like you do at home.” 

Lance pretended to be offended, but grinned as he led Keith back towards the living room. Pidge was snoring quietly, leaning into Hunk with their legs draped over the edge of the couch. Hunk shifted as Lance sat next to him, leaving a spot open for Keith. Hunk snagged some popcorn. 

“Hmm..This tastes better than the last bag. A little crisper and saltier.” Hunk said. 

When he turned back to the TV screen, Lance smirked at Keith, who jabbed him in the side. Soon after that, the end credits were playing. Hunk has fallen asleep, his head on top of Pidge’s, so Lance threw back the covers again and went to change the disk. 

For a while, Keith and Lance watched the movie in silence, occasionally whispering things about the movie to each other quietly so as not to wake the others.

Lance went to reach for the popcorn at the exact moment Keith did and their hands brushed against each other. For a minute they stared at each other and Lance could feel his face burn almost as hot as Keith’s skin had in the kitchen. Finally Keith gave a small cough and grabbed a handful of popcorn, tossing it into his mouth. 

“What? Trying to hold my hand, McClain?”

“No!” Lance sputtered. “I was reaching for the popcorn.”

“Sure you were.” Keith said nonchalantly. 

Lance was about to retort when he saw the smirk on Keith’s face and realized he was being played. Lance huffed and they went back to watching the movie. Eventually Keith’s head fell on Lance’s shoulder. He looked down and realized with the rapid blinking of Keith’s eyes that Keith was struggling to stay awake. Until now, Lance wasn’t even sure if ghosts needed to sleep.

Lance tugged the Gryffindor blanket over Keith so that it covered both of them. At this point, Keith’s eyes had closed fully and he let out a contented sigh, rubbing his cheek into Lance’s shoulder until he found a position that was comfortable. Lance leaned back, the couch cushioning him and enjoyed the warmth he was encapsulated in between Hunk, Keith, and the blankets.

He stared at Keith, whose chest was rising and falling slowly. Lance wondered if Keith actually breathed or whether it’s a subconscious thing Keith does to mimic the act of breathing. His bangs fell in front of his face and Keith twitched a little, so Lance pushed the hair out of the way again. Keith’s hair was so soft. Lance reveled in that fact for a moment, slowly twirling the strand in his finger, feeling the silkiness of it. 

He’s a ghost, Lance. As in not living. 

Keith’s eyelids fluttered. He had such long eyelashes. 

There’s something heavy in Lance’s throat as he watched the boy next to him sleep peacefully.

He shoved it down, into the Pandora’s box of his soul, turning the key, locking the box, and then throwing the key away in the abyss of his mind. 

Besides, even if Keith wasn’t a ghost, he had just broke up with Nyma. Or rather, Nyma just broke up with him. Even though Lance had had other things to worry about then a girl who didn’t love him back, it was his first major long-term relationship and even though Lance wasn’t mourning over their break-up, maybe because he could only vaguely remember it, he felt like he should be. At one time or another, they both loved each other.

As Lance watched the slow breathing and the small movements of Keith’s fingers against the blanket, he thought,

You can’t have him because he’s dead and you can’t want him because he thinks of you as a friend. “That’s what friends are for, right?”

But this was enough. 

Their friendship was enough and it would remain that way.

Lance would help Keith figure out his life and then Lance would work on regaining his own memories. 

And that would be enough.

Lance sighed, leaning his head onto Keith’s and allowing sleep to take him, the TV a quiet flicker in the background, Pidge’s soft snores a drone, and his problems drifting farther away with every inhale of the scent of the boy next to him and the warmth of his friends around him. 

It’s enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And with that, we're off folks. It's all down hill from here and boy, next chapter's a bit of a doozy ahaha
> 
> Anyways, thanks for reading, here's my tumblr if ya wanna talk: https://androgynoussnark.tumblr.com/


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You know those dreams you have about previous partners sometimes? Couple it with anxiety and you're in for a fun night with a ghost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Say You Won't Let Go, aka the fic where all the characters sleep all the time, except when they don't.

The night before Lance went back to school, he was tossing and turning in his bed. When he had the covers on, his skin felt like it was burning, and when he took them off, it was like he was naked in fucking January. He had tried everything, from listening to music, to reading, to counting the plastic glow-in-the-dark stars taped to his ceiling, but no matter what he did, his mind was going a million miles an hour and refused to power down. 

There was a pounding in his chest that indicated Lance’s anxiety was increasing. 

The problem was, he didn’t know what he was anxious about. 

Going back to school after weeks of absence? Yeah, that one’s a no brainer. Lance was pretty sure he was going to be crushed by the mountain of work he has to make up. It will be a landslide like no other. 

Was it Keith? Possibly. Lance was aware of the Pandora’s box he’s carrying within himself, and he was determined never to open it. He and Keith had spent the time since hanging out at Pidge’s house playing Zelda and cards. They had talked about a variety of topics, like Lance’s family and Keith’s love of motorcycles, so strong that he couldn’t forget it even in death. As weird as the whole dynamic between them may be, dead and living, amnesiac to amnesiac, they were friends and Lance didn’t want to mess that up. 

Lance sighed, rolling over and squeezing his eyes shut. He was determined to get a few hours of shut-eye before he went back to school. He took deep, steadying breaths and felt his eyes become heavier. He lurked in the gateway between sleep and wake. 

Taking a step through the gate, towards sleep, Lance felt hands on him. The dream was blurry, not quite in existence yet, but Lance could see flashes of pale lips and paler hands, flashes of color. The hands brushed down his arms, his hips, and then caressed his jaw. The lips imprinted into his own and he let out a contented sigh when long hair brushed against his cheek. 

    “Nyma,” He whispered as those hands ghosted through his hair.

He closed his eyes, absorbing the attention. This is the part he missed, the careful touches, her soft lips, the feeling of her hair as it tickled his nose when she swept in for a kiss on the forehead. 

Lance’s memories of the relationship were vague, he could remember they had fought a lot at the end of it, but he could never remember about what. But this part, the part where she loved him, he could never forget. 

Suddenly the touch was gone and a laugh rung in Lance’s ears. His eyes opened, but now he couldn’t even see the flashes of skin. It was as if he had just walked from a dark room into the sunlight, where it was so blinding that everything was pure white.

It was a rather breathy laugh, deeper than Nyma’s giggle and instinctually Lance knew this laugh was meant just for him. 

    “Nyma?” He asked uncertainly. 

The laugh sounded again, from behind his ear. Lance started to turn around, but the person wrapped their arms around his neck and no matter what he did, he couldn’t escape. 

For one scary moment, Lance thought they were going to choke him, but then they took one hand, the other still carelessly thrown over his shoulder and he watched as it moved upwards towards his forehead. 

The hand ran through his short hair, pushing it back, touch gentle, not unlike the hands from before. With just the pointer finger, the hand tapped Lance’s forehead, as if knocking on a door to be let in. 

With a jolt, Lance was awake. Not the in-between state of almost asleep, not in the feeling of being so tired that he might have a chance of falling asleep if he waits long enough. 

No, Lance was as awake as if someone had poured cold water over his head. For a moment, he just sat there in shock, trying to wrap his mind around what had happened in his dream. There it was again, the feeling that there’s something he’s about to remember, something that he was so close to remembering. He tried to grab it… and then just like that, it was gone. 

Frustrated, Lance threw back the covers, getting up and putting on his clothes. He checked the time on his phone and saw that it was about half past midnight. The apartment was quiet. The door to Hunk’s room was closed and the only sound was the rhythmic ticking of the clock on the wall. 

“Keith?” Lance asked the air, voice barely above a whisper. No one responded. Lance couldn’t sit here anymore, he was itching to do something. A bit of fresh air to clear his thoughts. Inaudibly, Lance let himself out of the apartment. 

A few minutes later, Lance found himself idly walking through the aisles of the grocery store that was within walking distance from his apartment. If he couldn’t sleep, he might as well do some midnight grocery shopping, right?

The store was almost as quiet as his apartment, just the faint sound of music floating above Lance’s head. The aisles were yellow with light, creating a warm atmosphere. The employees behind the registers chatted quietly amongst themselves, tiredness painting their faces. He strolled towards the back and took out a half gallon of milk, placing it into the basket he’s carrying, next to the few apples he had gotten to eat before school. He wandered over to the ice cream department and was staring through the glass, trying to decide which one he’s going to treat himself to when a voice sounded behind him. In a flash, he’s reminded of the arms around his neck and the disembodied voice. Goosebumps appeared on his skin as he involuntarily shuddered.

    “You can’t do your grocery shopping at normal hours like a regular person?” Keith asked.

Lance swung around, his hand clenched on the handle of the basket.   
    ““What the hell, dude? You scared me to death!”

    “Yes, that’s been my plan all along,” Keith said, rubbing his hands together manically. “I’ve come to kill you and force you to stay at my side for all eternity!”

    Despite himself, Lance laughed and pushed Keith. “You’re such an asshole, I swear to God.”

    “It’s my true calling.”

Lance went back to browsing through the different varieties of ice creams. 

    “What are you doing here?” He asked. 

    “Buying my groceries.” Keith deadpanned. “Obviously, I was looking for you.”

Lance raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Why?”

    “I felt this tugging feeling, like the other day. But this time it didn’t take me here automatically, I just followed the feeling until I found you. I wonder what it means.”

Lance hummed thoughtfully. “I mean, we already knew that you’re not tied to the apartment. Usually in movies, ghosts are tied to the place they die or that have some significant meaning to them. Maybe this whole area of town has meaning to you so you can come and go as you please.” Lance ventured.

    “Maybe.” Keith said, sounding unconvinced. 

    “I looked for you at the apartment, but you didn’t respond so I figured you were sleeping.”

Keith sniffed. “Nah, I don’t really sleep.”

Lance quirked an eyebrow at him. “You slept at Pidge’s.”

“I have the ability to sleep,” Keith said, “But I only need to if I have to restore a lot of energy.”

    “Energy for what?”

Keith smirked at him and suddenly there was a weird tingly feeling in Lance’s chest and it felt like it was burning. He looked down and then back up at Keith, wide eyed. 

Keith’s hand was currently stuck in Lance’s chest. Keith pulled it out, which caused Lance to shudder again, but when he looked down, there was no hole in his chest or anything else to suggest a ghost had just punched his hand through his torso. 

Lance was so busy examining his chest for any lasting damage he didn’t notice when Keith’s smirk grew and without warning, Keith stepped through Lance in his entirety. Lance’s entire body flashed with heat and he convulsed, gasping for air as Keith stepped through the other side. Lance sucked in air like a fish out of water. 

“You ass!” he shrilled.

He turned around to yell at Keith, but Keith wasn’t standing behind him. 

    “Over here, Lance!” 

He spun around to see Keith… with nothing more then his head stuck out of a freezer. Lance gaped at him. 

    “Don’t do that! You’re…you’re…”

Lance couldn’t finish the sentence because Keith has pulled his head back into the freezer, so now all that Lance could see was his eyes and the top of his head. If Keith looked weird before, now he looked downright creepy, like something out of a horror film. Except they’re in a fucking grocery store. Lance laughed so hard, tears leak out of the corners of his eyes. 

“Hey you wanna grab me a bucket of vanilla, chocolate, and strawberry ice cream while you’re in there, Casper?”

“That’s in that freezer over there.”

Keith jumped out of the freezer he’s occupying and passed through the one on the opposite side of the aisle, disappearing momentarily and then reappearing with the specified carton. He handed it to Lance, who put it in the basket. 

    “Okay, I just need to get some more bread.” Lance scanned signs that hung over the aisles.

    “It’s in the last aisle, by the bakery.” Keith said automatically. 

Lance glanced at Keith. The gears were turning in his head and he decided to test something out. 

    “Keith, where can I find the PopTarts?”

    “Aisle 6.” Keith said without hesitation.

    “And the sugar?” 

    “Aisle 2, with the rest of the baking ingredients.”

“How come you know the layout of this grocery store so well?” Lance questioned.

Keith shrugged, “I don’t know, maybe I shopped here when I was alive or something. It feels familiar.”

Lance clapped his hands together and grabbed Keith by the arm, leaning towards him. His blue eyes shone with intensity.

    “Don’t you know what this means, Keith?” 

“Ugh, no?” Keith said, leaning away from Lance, eyes wide with surprise. 

“I shop here every other week, when it’s not Hunk’s turn to do the grocery shopping, and even I don’t know the specifics of where everything is.”

    “And?” Keith said, tugging at his arm impatiently. Lance beamed at him, and Keith doesn’t think he’s ever seen Lance as excited as he is right now. Lance looked like he could start dancing right here in the aisle. Keith wouldn’t put it past him. 

    “Keith, only an employee would know the store as well as you do.” Lance bubbled. “It’s a lead!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hmm something doesn't add up here. Our boys seem to be creating quite the mess even if they don't realize it. Maybe they're getting closer to solving some problems though?
> 
> Here's my tumblr if you wanna chat: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/androgynoussnark


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance and Keith have possibly found a lead on Keith's past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, have a chapter a day early! I'm going up to Maine tomorrow for a week, so I figured I'd get this out before I left. Hopefully I'll be able to release the next two chapters next week on time, but if not, that's why. 
> 
> Also, who's excited for season 3? I'm sleeping over with two of my friends tonight so we can watch it together. When season 2 came out, we were literally screaming at the TV and I felt so bad for his parents. I dragged my friends into this hell and there's no escape
> 
> Anyways, please enjoy the chapter, hopefully it will make you smile :)

Keith could barely keep up as Lance dragged him by the arm through the grocery store. 

“What if this isn’t a lead?” He pressed. “Maybe I’m just a guy who had a lot of spare time and memorized all the aisles or maybe I shopped here more than you do.”

Lance glanced back, grin still evident on his face. “Keith, you’re weird, but you’re not _that_ weird. And we have to at least try.”

Lance squeezed his hand and Keith was intrigued to find that any worries he had had about what they might find lessened when he saw Lance’s smile. 

Lance dashed up to the first cash register he came to, where a scruffy looking guy who looked a little older than them was working. The guy looked to be about 25, in a baggy dark green hoodie, his ears studded with gold rings. He was chewing on a toothpick absentmindedly and didn’t bother to pull it out when they approached, although the chewing did seem to intensify. He straightened up from where he was slumped over the register. 

Or when Lance approached, rather. Keith slipped his hand out of Lance’s. He had no clue what Lance was going to ask this guy, but it would probably be better if he didn’t look like a lunatic holding air while doing so. 

    “Can I please speak to the manager?” Lance asked. 

The employee - Rolo, Keith found out from the silver name tag pinned to his hoodie- startled. 

    “Is something the matter?” He questioned. The poor kid looked half asleep, and was in no shape to deal with Lance, giddy with excitement and wanting to talk to the manager for no apparent reason. 

    “There’s nothing wrong,” Lance dismissed. “I just want to ask the manager some questions about someone who might have worked here before.”

Rolo gave Lance a weird stare, but excused himself and disappeared down a hallway along the wall marked ‘Employees Only’.

    “Are you sure about this?” Keith asked, fidgeting with his fingers.

Lance looked down at his phone, pretending to type something so that he could hide the movements of his mouth. 

    “We don’t have to if you don’t want to. But I mean, what devastating news are you gonna hear about yourself if this is where you worked? That you snapped at a customer once or shelved the salt under where the sugar should go?” 

Keith relaxed a little, releasing the breath he didn’t know he had been holding. Lance was giving him an out. A way to go back to the apartment and pretend he had never had this option and live out the rest of his days peacefully as a ghost. 

But the more he thought about it, the more he realized that he was actually kind of curious.  
     
“No, it’s fine. Let’s do this.”

Even looking down at his phone, Lance couldn’t conceal his smile. Keith felt something flutter in his insides at the small quirk of his lips. 

Rolo came back a minute later, with a heavyset man on a scooter trailing behind him. He was wearing the shop’s uniform and had a walkie-talkie pinned to the pocket. His eyes were narrowed, but judging from the crinkles around his eyes, they were like that most of the time. He had a beard that was long enough to be noticeable, but not long enough to be impressive. Rolo inserted himself back behind his register, and the manager’s scooter rolled to a stop. 

    “This store is under my jurisdiction,” the manager said in a gruff voice, “is there something I can help you with?”

    “Can you tell me about someone who possibly used to work here Mr...uh… Varkon?” Lance asked, squinting down at the manager’s name tag. 

    “Possibly. Who are you looking for?”  
     
    “Keith.”

    “Last name?”

Lance paused, glancing covertly at Keith, who could only shrug. “I don’t know.”

Varkon furrowed his eyebrows. “You don’t know the last name of the person you’re looking for?”

“No?” Lance said meekly. “Is that a problem?”

“What’s a problem is that I was just about to go home, since it’s well after midnight and you don’t even know the full name of the person you’re looking for!” Varkon barked, gesturing wildly with his hands. “By the rules of the store, I’m not legally allowed to disclose any information on the employees, past or present, unless you have a warrant.” He said, stabbing Lance in the chest with his pointer finger. 

Lance tried to look chastised, but it was kind of hard to do when Keith was standing next to Varkon,  and had started mimicking his every movement with a dumb scowl on his face. Looking away from Keith and swallowing a laugh, Lance tried to protest. 

    “Please,” Lance begged. “I don’t know his last name, but he was probably in his early 20’s with a really out of style mullet. He was probably always grumpy, too.”

    “Hey!” Keith scowled. He punched Lance in the arm and Lance tried to keep his face expressionless. 

The manager looked unmoved, so Lance pulled out his wallet. He fished out 20 dollars and held them out to Varkon. 

    “I’m not opposed to fishing some change out of the pond in the garden store next door,” Lance smiled, clearly hoping to break the ice a little. Keith wouldn’t really put it past him to do that though. 

Varkon looked unimpressed and made no move to take the money.

    “Nope, sorry, I can’t help you.” Varkon said, getting back on his scooter. “I don’t know any punk kids like that and even if I did I wouldn’t tell you. I’m going home now, so have a nice day, sir.” 

Lance visibly deflated as the manager putted away on his scooter. He glanced at Keith, disappointment flooding his eyes and together they started to walk out. 

    “Lance! Hey, Lance, wait up!”

The boys turned to see Rolo, who had sprinted to catch up with them.

    “I know the kid you’re talking about.” Rolo said. Lance brightened. 

    “Really? Can you tell me who he is?” Lance asked. 

Rolo scratched the back of his head. “Well, he doesn’t work here anymore, and he hasn’t for a while. I honestly don’t know that much either, but I owe you a good turn, so I’ll tell you all I know.”

    “Do you know his full name?” Lance questioned.  
     
    “Yeah, his name was Keith Kogane.”

Keith’s eyes widened as recognition flooded through his veins. It was as if someone had electrocuted him and for the first time, he felt fully awake since he had died.

He looked at Lance, whose expression mirrored his own. Suddenly, Keith felt a little overwhelmed and his head was swimming. He reached for Lance’s arm to steady himself. 

    “He kept to himself mostly, so I don’t really know anything else, but he always drove this sick red motorcycle in to work, except on rainy days. On rainy days, his brother would drop him off.”

    “Thanks for the information. It was really helpful.”

Rolo nodded and returned to his station. As Lance and Keith walked back to the apartment, Lance laughed. 

    “Stand-offish as usual, even in life.” Lance teased. 

    “He said I kept to myself. That’s different.”

    “Sure, whatever you say, Keith.” Lance chuckled. “Keith Kogane.” He said, rolling the words in his mouth experimentally. “I think it suits you.” His blue eyes were alight with barely contained excitement and the grin he wore shined brightly. 

Warmth flooded through Keith’s chest at hearing Lance say his full name. 

    “I have a brother.” Keith said, still a little stunned. Sure, he had known that he had probably had a family, but he hadn’t thought about it. He hadn’t wanted to know who he had left behind. 

Now that he knew, he wasn’t sure how he felt about it. 

Lance took his hand and squeezed it. He didn’t say anything, but his presence was comforting and Keith leaned into his touch as they walked along the dimly lit sidewalk in the early hours of the morning.

It wasn’t until later, when Lance was back in his bed, nestled under the covers and in the throes of sleep that he wondered how Rolo had known his name and what he had meant by “owing him a good turn”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Every time I try to write serious scenes for Lance, I think about the fact that Keith is invisible to literally everyone except Lance and all the shit he could get away with and I ruin it for myself. 
> 
> Someone once told me that I'm "an agent of my own suffering" and yeah, that's pretty accurate.
> 
> Come chat! Tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/androgynoussnark


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance goes back to school for the first time since his accident.
> 
> Trigger Warning: Major anxiety attack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: DETAILED ANXIETY ATTACK
> 
> Just a friendly reminder, anxiety manifests itself in many different ways, so in this fic I've based Lance's anxiety off of how my anxiety usually affects me, so this is just my own personal experience with it. 
> 
>  
> 
> Anyways, please enjoy the chapter, despite the fact that it's a bit of a downer
> 
> I really enjoyed season 3, but I think some people had mixed feelings about it. Either way if yu wanna come chat about s3 or this fic or anything else here's my Tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/androgynoussnark

Morning came sooner than Lance expected, as it usually does when one spends the night in a grocery store helping an amnesiac ghost find out more about himself. 

Nevertheless, Lance got out of bed, and ran through his usual morning routine. He took a shower and rubbed the moisturizer into his skin, specifically in the areas where he was prone to acne. He dressed in his uniform for the Garrison, gray pants and an orange and white jacket. He fastened his belt and straightened the white cuffs of his jacket. When he pulled the standard issue boots out of his closet, he could see they were dusty from disuse, so he wiped them as best as he could. He quickly brushed his hair and then used some product to frame it the way he wanted. 

When he exited the bathroom, Hunk was already awake, making breakfast.  
     
    “Morning,” Lance said. 

    “Morning.” Hunk replied. “I made pancakes, since today’s your first day back at school.”

    “My favorite!” Lance beamed.

After a quick breakfast of savory pancakes drowned in syrup with Hunk and a hug and a fist bump out the door, Lance was entering the school and finding the class he hadn’t attended in weeks. First period he had one of Shiro’s classes, Astronomy.

Lance sat down in the row he usually sits in. On his left, a boy laughed loudly with his friends, who were watching videos before class began, and there was an empty seat to his right. A girl with blue streaks in her hair sat in the seat in front of him, downing a coffee like it was the only thing keeping her alive right now. To be fair, it probably was, judging by the slump of her shoulders and the bags under her eyes. 

In one of the rows closer to the front, a glint of blond hair caught Lance’s attention. Her blond hair was flowed bodily around her shoulders, soft and shiny. 

_Strawberry scented and soft to the touch. His hands ran through it, pushing it behind her ears._

Although Lance couldn’t see her face, he had no doubt her makeup was on point. Her usual makeup generally included long wings drawn in eyeliner that emphasized her large eyes, so alluring Lance used to wish he could stare at them for hours. Her lips were usually covered in a pale pink lip gloss.

_Lips parted, and their kisses were always warm and energetic. He-_

She turned her head to talk to the person next to her, a short, lively girl with her hair tied in two short buns on top of her head, and Lance saw the quirk of her lips.

_Those same lips smiled cattily. “I’m sorry, Lance. I should have told you sooner, but I’m just not interested anymore. Ro-”_

Her voice became distant and he couldn’t make out whatever she had been saying, but that was okay he didn’t want to know anyway.

As someone trying to recover his memories, Lance spent a lot of time dwelling on the past, but that was not a past that needed to be dwelled on. It was over. Nyma had broken up with him and weird dreams notwithstanding, it was time to move on. 

A woman that Lance had never seen before walked into the room and put her stuff down behind Shiro’s desk. For a moment, Lance thought he had walked into the wrong room, but no, Shiro’s tacky “Go. Be Great.” poster was still taped to wall next to his desk. 

Lance tapped the girl with the coffee on the shoulder. 

    “Hey, do you know where Professor Shiro is?” He asked. 

    “Not really. He’s taken a leave of absence for an indefinite amount of time, but he said he should be back soon.” She yawned.

Lance thanked the girl and sat back in his seat. That was weird, Shiro hadn’t mentioned needing a break for anything, even when Lance had told him that he was going back to school. Maybe Shiro had gotten ill or something. 

At the front of the room, the professor started to teach. She had notes, presumably from Shiro, that she consulted every once in awhile. She started to write things on the board and Lance realized he had no idea what she was talking about. A lump formed in his throat as he realized that not only had he missed weeks of school for his recovery time, but he also couldn’t remember anything he had learned otherwise. 

Vague images of Shiro at the whiteboard danced around his head, but anytime he tried to envision what Shiro had been writing on the board, the words got fuzzy and started to bleed, like a note written in marker when splashed with water. 

Lance began taking notes along with the rest of the class. He was trying to wrap his mind around the concept of what she was teaching when suddenly, the boy next to him nudged his shoulder. Lance looked away from his notes. 

    “Hey man, do you have an eraser I could borrow?”

Lance shook his head and the boy turned to ask someone else, but in that moment, Lance caught sight of the boy’s notebook. He had so much written, clearly lined notes with little diagrams that spread both pages of his notebook. Lance looked down at his own scribble, filling about a quarter of the page. He felt his throat constrict as he looked around at the other student’s notebooks. Everyone had more than him. Maybe this was a continued lesson.

With the tightness in his throat, his breath caught in his chest and it was suddenly very difficult to breathe. He tried to tune back into what the teacher was saying, but nothing was making any sense and his vision blurred slightly as a wave of dizziness passed over him. 

Lance was aware that his jaw was clenched and he had an iron grip around his pencil, but just because he was aware of it, didn’t mean he could make it stop. Just like he couldn’t stop the other students from writing more notes, couldn’t stop them from getting even farther ahead, couldn’t stop them from remembering what the course had been about, couldn’t stop them. 

The boy next to Lance turned back towards him and said something. Lance couldn’t hear what it was over the pounding of his own heart and the panic that was surging in his ears, like an ocean wave in a windstorm. 

The boy looked concerned, but that concern burned through Lance like a match to paper. Lance was paper, no longer a boy, just a weak, pale thing of no substance. He couldn’t think, couldn’t hear, couldn’t see anymore. 

He felt like everyone was staring at him, but all he could see was the words swimming before him on his paper, small, insignificant, and meaningless. 

Finally, his brain managed to spit out a word other than _panic_. 

_Go._

_Go go go go go go go_

His brain finally kicked his muscles into gear. 

Roughly pushing back his chair, Lance stood up, using one hand to balance himself unsteadily and the other to grab his backpack, slinging it over his shoulder. He slid past the empty desk on his right towards the door. If anyone said anything to him, he didn’t hear it, didn’t respond. He hoped that no one other than that boy had been paying attention, but even if they had, he didn’t care. He had just needed to get out. 

_Go._

His heart still racing at speeds that would beat the fastest racehorse, Lance quickly strode to the bathroom. He needed to stop, he needed to get his shit together. 

Nobody was in the restroom, but Lance strode towards the last stall, the handicap one, and slammed the door shut. He gasped for air, sinking to the floor. He was trembling now, no longer clenched in defense, but rather sagged in defeat. 

His breathing was still uneven and ragged, coming in pants where it felt like he lost more air than gained it. He pulled on the collar of his uniform, trying to get air and feeling a cold that chilled his bones. 

_Calm down, Lance. This is a panic attack, you’ve had these before and you know what to do._

But the thing was he _didn’t_ know what to do. He had been taking medication for years, but he had to be taken off of it so it didn’t clash with his medication after the accident. He hadn’t felt a difference, during his stay at home and the hospital, he had been stressed, sure, and anxious, sure, but not so far as that he had anxiety attacks. He had thought that maybe, just maybe, he had finally gotten this under control. 

Guess not. 

He tried to control his breathing, but it just felt like he was choking. He clawed his throat, desperate to stop the burning there and make a passageway for air to pass through. He dropped his head onto his knees, absorbing the dark and the quiet and trying to calm himself. 

    “Lance? Can you hear me?” A voice came from in front of Lance, but he couldn’t bear to lift his head. He could feel the tears as they ran down his cheeks and soaked into his jeans. 

“Lance, please look at me.”

Slowly, Lance raised his head. Keith was crouched before him, knees on the dirty tile, but he didn’t look like he cared. His shoulders were relaxed and his hands steady, but Lance could see the worry pooled in his eyes. 

“Lance can you hear me?” Keith asked again.

Lance replied with a jerky nod. 

“Can you reply, Lance?” 

He shook his head quickly, still wheezing. 

“It’s okay. You’re gonna be okay, Lance.” Keith comforted. “Can you breath in and out with me?”

Keith took a deep breath in and then released it. Once he got into the rhythm of it, Lance copied him. Deep breath in, deep breath out. Deep breath in, deep breath out. 

They repeated that for several minutes until Lance stopped straining for air and was merely trembling. 

    “Can you count to 10 for me, Lance?” 

“One...two…” His voice sounded raw, as if hadn’t been used in years, but he continued to count until he reached ten. As he counted, he made eye contact with Keith and felt himself be swallowed by the pools of his dark indigo eyes. 

    The trembling subsided and Lance wiped some of the tears away from his eyes. 

    “See? You’re okay, Lance.” Keith murmured. “Can you talk to me?”  
     
    “I-I think so.” Lance sniffled. 

    “Do you want to talk about it?”

    “No, I just don’t know what I’m doing.” Lance hiccupped. “I thought I could come back to school and everything would be fine, just like it was before the accident, but I’m so far behind. I’m not sure I’ll ever catch up.” 

“Where’s Shiro? Can he help you?” Keith asked.

Lance shook his head vigorously. “He’s not here today. I don’t know why, but even if he was, it’s not like he could just leave his class to help me.”

Keith placed a hand on his shoulder, hesitantly, as if unsure how to proceed. Lance leaned into his touch, enjoying the warmth, which was warmer than normal. 

    “You’ll figure it out.” Keith said. “You can get a tutor, or maybe if you talk to Shiro, he’ll have a solution. It is his class after all.” 

“I take flight training with him too, though.” Lance said dejectedly. “That’s so hands on, I’ll never make up all that work.”

“Lance.” Keith said firmly. “It will work out.” 

    “It’ll work out.” Lance repeated. 

He closed his eyes, and laid his head on Keith’s shoulder. Keith smelled faintly of gasoline, and of Blue, and something Lance couldn’t name, but seemed familiar, but no matter what, it relaxed him and he tried to absorb as much of Keith as he could into his senses. 

    “Hey, Keith?”

“What?” Keith hummed. 

    “Did you know that when I was little, I used to be afraid of ghosts?” Lance asked.

    “Well, now that you’ve met a real one are they as scary as you thought?”

    “Nah,” Lance chuckled. “You pretend to be tough, but you’re friendlier than Casper the Friendly Ghost.”

Keith gently pushed him off his shoulder and Lance caught himself before he was entirely on the bathroom floor. When Lance looked at him, Keith quickly sculpted his grin into a poorly disguised scowl. 

In that moment, Lance was really grateful Keith was there with him.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Lies and secrets, they are like a cancer to the soul. They eat away at what is good and leave only destruction behind." - Cassandra Clare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More problem solving? Or problem creating?
> 
> I'm back from vacation so let's find out! Also what's that? A designated number of chapters? Yep, you heard it here first folks, I finally finished something and it looks like it will be 15 chapters.
> 
> Come Chat! Tumblr: androgynoussnark

“Thanks so much, Shiro. You always have my back. Yeah, see you later.” Lance said, hanging up the phone. 

    “What did he say?” Keith asked.

    “He said he would come by sometime to give me the notes and an overview of each topic that I missed or forgot.” Lance explained. “As for flight training, Shiro said there’s a summer program that he can recommend me for that will cover most of the practices done in the class, although it will on brush on the theories behind them.”

Keith hummed. “That’s good though. That’ll help you get caught up.”

“It’s like the world has been lifted from my shoulders.” Lance said, sighing happily.

He fell onto his bed, stretching out and basking in the warmth that shone from his window. Keith sat down next to him, tossing a stress ball that he had found on Lance’s desk in his hand. He threw the ball up, and then caught it again, squeezing it in his hand. 

He had just thrown the ball up in the air again when Hunk entered Lance’s bedroom. Keith snatched the ball out of the air before Hunk could notice. 

    “Hey, I’m going to work before my afternoon classes.” Hunk said, straightening the polo shirt his work had assigned him. 

If Keith remembered correctly, Lance had said Hunk worked at a bakery in his spare time. That would make sense since Lance’s roommate always smelled like freshly baked cookies and warm bread. 

“You’re not going back to class today, right?” He continued. 

    “Nope.” Lance replied. “I just called Shiro and he said he’d help me out. He felt really bad that he was absent on my first day back.” Lance scratched the back of his head. “Hmm. Come to think of it, I forgot to ask him why he was absent.”

    Hunk cracked his knuckles. “I don’t know. He was probably sick. The flu’s going around, you know.”

    “Yeah, you’re right. Bro, there was this lady behind me in line to pay for gas and she sneezed like 27 times! I thought she was gonna give herself a heart attack from sneezing!”

Hunk laughed. “Death by sneezing. Anyways, you should take it easy after the anxiety attack you had yesterday.”

    “Will do, bro. See you later.”

With a goodbye to Blue and a creak of the apartment door, Hunk left. Keith resumed his game of throwing the ball and catching it. 

    “Do you want to keep playing Breath of the Wild?” He asked. 

    “Sorry Keith, but we’ve got stuff to do.” Lance said, vaulting out of bed and tugging a baseball cap over his hair. As he tied the laces to his shoes, Keith hovered over him. 

    “Where are we going?”

    “To Pidge’s. I was going to wait until the weekend, but since the whole school thing didn’t really work out, we might as well go now. Pidge has the same class as Hunk today, so they won’t have class until the afternoon.” Lance explained. 

    “Okay, but what are we doing at Pidge’s?”  
     
“Pidge has mad hacking skills. If anyone can find out about your past, it’s Pidge. Especially since we now know your full name.”

    “Wait a second. Who said I wanted to know any more?” Keith glowered. 

Lance seemed to deflate. “I’m sorry. I should have asked. I just thought that since we had gotten such a good lead you might want to keep following it.”

Keith felt bad about ruining Lance’s excitement. He tried to calm the anger and confusion that swirled in his chest. The problem was, he didn’t _know_ what he wanted. 

    “I don’t gain anything from knowing about my past. I’m dead. I can’t have my old life back, not now, not ever. I’m not the same as you.”

    “I guess not.” Lance said slowly. “I thought but I was helping you, but I only made you feel worse. I’m sorry, Keith.”

Well… Keith couldn’t say he wasn’t a _little_ curious. Besides, Lance had a frown that didn’t suit him at all and he was staring off into space. Keith didn’t like it, and if he agreed, maybe Lance’s excitement would be reinvigorated. 

    “I’ll do it.” Keith decided. 

    “Are you sure?” Lance sounded calm but Keith could see a spark of excitement gleaming in his eyes. 

    “Yeah. It’s worth a shot, right?”

Lance bounded out of his room like an excited puppy. He picked up Blue and danced around with her for a second, much to her disdain. He kissed her on the head and placed her back where she had been. 

Soon enough, the boys found themselves on the doorstep of the Holt’s. Matt let them in again, much like he had for Lance last time. They found Pidge, curled in a ball on their bed, typing furiously into a laptop. 

    “Hey, Pidgeon.” Lance said, jumping on Pidge’s bed, knocking off several pillows. 

Pidge peered around their computer screen, awoken from whatever trance they had been under. 

    “Hey Lancelot, what’s up?” They asked. 

Lance hesitated for a moment. He and Keith had vaguely discussed what they were going to ask Pidge on the way here. They both agreed that explaining Keith’s existence would probably sound crazy, especially coming from someone who had recently been hospitalized for a head injury. 

    “I’m helping someone work on a research project and they need to check state cemetery records for information on their ancestors. I figured nobody would be able to find information like you.” Lance said finally. 

    “Well, that’s true. Nobody can find information like me.” Pidge smirked, adjusting their glasses. “But I thought Hunk said you decided you weren’t ready to go back to school just yet?”

Lance and Keith both froze. They hadn’t thought about that. Of _course_ Hunk would tell Pidge what had happened at school yesterday. Why hadn’t they thought about this? Shit, Shit, Shit, there really was no good way to tell someone you’re looking for a ghost, what the fuck were they going to…

    “Well, it’s for extra credit, sort of. I’m trying to do as much work as I can, and I don’t have to be in class to do this.” Lance covered smoothly. Pidge seemed to accept that answer because they went back to typing. 

The two boys briefly made eye contact. Even though they had narrowly avoided that hurtle, Keith could see the panic still evident in Lance’s eyes. 

    “Right, well, what’s the family name?” Pidge inquired. 

    “Kogane.”

Pidge’s eyes shot up, wide with recognition.

    “What did you say?”

    “Kogane?” Lance said uncertainly, shifting on his feet uncomfortably. “Do you know them?”

    “No.” 

Lance wrinkled his nose. “No? With a reaction like that?” He prodded.

    “No, Lance. I don’t know them.” Pidge declared, keeping an obscene amount of eye contact with Lance, but fidgeting with their laptop so that it’s turned even farther away from him. 

“Come on Pidgeon, do you have a secret fling I don’t know about?.” Lance’s tone was light, but Keith could tell by the way his back stiffened that he was becoming increasingly frustrated.

Pidge rolled their eyes, following the atmosphere Lance had created, even though their mouth was drawn with tightness. “No, Lance,It’s just that, are you sure you should be checking the cemetery?”

    “Yes, it’s a project on dead people. Why?”

    “There’s nobody under the name Kogane buried in any of the surrounding towns.” Pidge typed furiously for a moment. “Or in the state, for that matter. There’s one in Texas, a man in his late 30’s buried in Austin, but other than that.” Pidge pauses, eyeing Lance warily. “Who did you say this project was for again?”

Lance faltered, eyes wide like a deer in the headlights. Keith, who had been pacing behind Lance, moved behind Pidge and leaned against the wall, his arms crossed. 

“Uh.. Jeremy!” Lance blurted. 

“Jeremy?”

“Yeah, Jeremy! You remember good ol’ Jeremy, right? I owed him a favor because one time he brought me some clothes when I had to jump naked out the window of this girl’s dorm in the middle of the night when her roommate came back early. Man, what a wild night!” He rambled, chuckling nervously. 

“Right…” Pidge said, although they looked unconvinced. “Was there anything else you needed?”

“Nope!” Lance stammered. “That was it. Thanks for your help.”

Pidge shrugged. “Anytime. Sorry there was no record of Kogane in the cemeteries around here.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Lance assured them. “We’ll have to hang out sometime soon.”

When the two boys were out of the Holt’s house, walking back towards Lance’s apartment,  
Lance rubbed the back of his neck. 

    “Man, that conversation was so weird.” He narrowed his eyes. “I feel like everyone is hiding something from me lately, they’re always on edge.”

Keith looked at him uncertainly, his eyes flashing with worry, anger, and… hurt?

“Lance.”

“What?” Lance asked, concerned. 

    “There was an article pulled up on Pidge’s computer. I couldn’t read it because I was too far away, but the headline was something about a man being hospitalized.” Keith’s voice broke. “I think my name was in that article.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: The story Lance tells about that person sneezing like 27 times is based off the time me and my friends tried to make a video for English class and I couldn't stop sneezing while we were filming, so in the bloopers there was a clip of me sneezing like 27 times in a row because MY FRIENDS LOVE ME


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rainy days filled with worries and reassurances <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the purest thing I have ever written. I hope you enjoy, please don't die of fluff overdose. 
> 
> This chapter was supposed to go up yesterday, but I found myself without a computer so apologies.

“Why would Pidge lie to me?” Lance said, pacing back and forth across his bedroom floor. The floorboards creaked as his weight shifted across them.

    “I don’t know, Lance, maybe there’s a reason. Calm down, you’re going to wake Hunk up.” 

“Hunk’s working late tonight and then going to Pidge’s to work on something.” Lance said dismissively, but he reluctantly slumped on the edge of his bed. Hurt flashed in his eyes and he raked a hand through his hair. 

“I just don’t understand. When Pidge came out to me, they swore there would be no more secrets between us.” Lance clenched his hands on the bedsheet. “I thought we had become better friends by now.”

Keith, who had been standing in the corner of the room awkwardly, sat down on the bed next to Lance. He felt awful that he couldn’t say anything to comfort Lance, but he didn’t know what was going on anymore than Lance did. The two boys slumped together quietly for a minute before Lance jumped to his feet, accidently causing Keith to startle. 

“Fine! Pidge doesn’t want to help me? We’ll figure it out ourselves!”

He strode over to his desk, where his laptop was plugged in. The screen flickered on and Lance slammed his fingers on the keys as he typed his password in. A minute later, he was logged in and typing furiously, every slam of a key an unspoken feeling. Keith readjusted himself on Lance’s bed, wishing he could do something to help, but staying out of the way. 

A few minutes later, Lance sagged back in his chair, spinning around to face Keith. 

    “Okay, assuming that article was local news, the hospital you mentioned must be Altea Hospital, which on the other side of town. The only other medical facility within the area is more of a clinic, so if it’s as serious as that article made it sound, a person wouldn’t be treated there.” Lance said. 

    “What are we going to do?” Keith asked. 

    Lance paused. “Whatever you want. If you want to keep looking for clues about your past, we’ll can go to the hospital tomorrow. If not, we can drop it.”

Keith hesitated for a moment, but then he nodded. “Tomorrow, then.”

The two boys separated, Lance climbed into bed and Keith went wherever ghosts go in their spare time. Lance’s eyelids felt heavy and he was ready to succumb to sleep. He was still mad at Pidge for keeping secrets from him, but no matter what, he was going to get to the bottom of this. He was going to help Keith and recover his own memories, no matter the cost. 

Why would Pidge have any reason to lie? They told each other everything. Well, maybe not _everything_ , that was what Hunk was for, but Pidge was insanely smart and if anything major was going on in Lance’s life, Pidge was usually privy to it. (That or Hunk told them, since he seemed to have a less than adequate understanding of privacy, Lance was never sure.)

Nothing made sense anymore and that’s all Lance wanted.

It was pretty messed up when figuring out the deal with a ghost’s afterlife made more sense than having conversations with living friends. 

Lance could hear rain bouncing in melodic tones outside, so he slid out of bed to open the window. At home, it rained fairly often and his mother collected the rainwater in jars. As a kid, Lance had always looked forward to rainstorms and being able to collect the jars to give to his mother. His sisters had taught him to dance in the rain and his brothers had walked down to beach to watch the waves roll over the shore and smell the rain as it wet the sand. The rain was a part of his home, of his family, of himself. 

Whenever Lance was yearning for home, rain was one of the few things that made him feel a little closer and comforted him. He stood in front of his open window, listening as the rain drummed against the window sill. He watched as raindrops pelted his windowpane and beads dripped down, punctuating the wood like small drum beats . The trees seemed to howl around his apartment and thunder rumbled it’s deep voice in the distance. A few drops of rain blew through the window, landing on Lance’s hand.

For the first time in his life, Lance felt unsettled by the rain. 

There was a strange gnawing feeling inside his chest like he was being eaten from the inside out, by a being made of guilt. He didn’t know why, couldn’t make sense of the feeling. 

As he slid the window closed again, he added another thing to the list of things that didn’t make sense anymore. He slid beneath the covers of his bed, covering his head with his pillow to muffle the sounds of rainfall. 

    “Lance?”

Lance retreated from his makeshift cave to see Keith standing over his bed, glowing dimly in the darkened room. He looked pale and shaken, more like a ghost than Lance had ever seen him. Something about his presence just wasn’t... there. As if he didn’t want to be noticed. 

    “Keith? Are you okay?” Lance asked tentatively. 

Keith just hovered there for a moment, before shaking his head. His brow was creased and his eyes filled with vulnerability. 

    “I didn’t want to bother you, but I’m…” He trailed off, cracking his fingers and studying the ground. “I’m really nervous about tomorrow.”

Lance rolled over and pulled the covers aside. 

    “Climb in.”

    “What?” Keith asked dumbly. 

Lance yawned. “Get in bed, idiot. You’re letting all the cold air in.”

Slowly and unsurely, Keith inserted himself between the sheets, pulling the comforter over his legs without lying down. His subtle glow seemed to intensify. Lance sighed in content as the heat of his bed seemed to increase dramatically. Any heat that had been lost in Keith’s hesitation was well made up for now. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?” He asked. 

Keith played with the edge of the comforter. He didn’t say anything for a moment, so Lance just stared at the ceiling, waiting. 

After a moment, Keith’s hands stilled. “Do you think there’s a possibility that I’m still alive?”

Lance rolled over, facing Keith. “Is that possible? I mean, you’re a _ghost_.”

Keith focused on the ceiling. “I don’t know. Maybe not. I just don’t feel…” He touched his chest, in the same spot he had once told Lance that he felt the tugging sensation. “Dead.”

He sighed. “I just don’t know. We’re going to a hospital tomorrow, but why would a hospital keep a dead body for so long? What if I don’t like what we find out?”

Lance was silent for a moment. “I don’t know. I mean, I know your life can’t be all peaches and rainbows since you’re a ghost and all, but I want you to be happy. I don’t want you to have regrets.” Lance made sure Keith was looking at him before continuing. “If you do have regrets, I don’t know what we’ll do. But we’ll handle as it comes.”

Keith didn’t respond or look at Lance, choosing to continue rolling the edge of the comforter between his fingers. 

    “Hey.” Lance said, poking Keith’s thigh beneath the blanket. “You wanna know something?”

This garnered Keith’s attention and looked down at Lance, dark stormy eyes meeting ocean blue ones. 

    “What?” He asked. 

    “My family loves the rain,” he said, gesturing to the window, “but when I was really small, I used to be afraid of thunderstorms.”

Keith raised his eyebrows and Lance took it as a sign that Keith was interested in hearing the rest of the story. 

“We lived on a beach and sometimes we’d get really large thunderstorms where the thunder sounded like someone was kicking our house and everything in the house would rattle. The wind would pull on the shutters of our windows like it wanted to steal them from us and waves crashed on the shore violently. I always thought the waves would come up and swallow my family’s home in one bite.” Lance said, making hand motions to describe what he was saying. 

    “You’re not afraid of thunderstorms anymore, though, right?” Keith questioned. 

Lance thought about that for a moment, considering his strange feelings about the current rainstorm and the feeling that had settled in his gut and was still present as they were speaking. But he shook his head. 

    “No. When I was really scared and cowering under the table, my siblings would come and play the radio really loudly. So loud, you could barely hear the thunder anymore. They would pull me out from my hiding place and pull me onto the bed,” Lance smiled and his voice filled with warmth. “Then we would dance. We danced until the storm was over, or until we couldn’t dance anymore, and at that point we were too busy laughing to listen to the thunder. Sometimes my mother came and sang along with the radio. She has the nicest voice.”

    “Oh yeah? Do you have a nice voice?”

    “Of course! Not as pretty as my Mama’s, but probably better than yours!” 

    Keith snorted. “Definitely better than mine, I can’t sing for shit.”

“Oh? Well how do you feel about a dance?” Lance stood up on the bed, shedding the sheets. He held out a hand to Keith, who just sat there dumbfounded.

Lance quirked a brow at him and hesitantly, he took Lance’s hand and allowed him to drag him up so that both boys were standing on top of the bed. 

With his free hand, Lance pulled his phone out of his pocket and flicked aimlessly through it. Suddenly, a gentle guitar sounded and a voice crooned through the speakers in Spanish.

Slipping the phone back into his pocket, Lance took Keith’s other hand. It was awkward for a minute, just clammy hands pressed together and uncertain stares that tracked every movement. Thunder sounded in the background, still audible over the tinny sound of the speakers. Lance visibly flinched, but he didn't let go of Keith’s hand.

He settled into the rhythm of the song and before Keith could think too hard about what they were doing, they were moving.

Step backwards, step forwards, swaying in time to the music. 

Lance grinned and before Keith realized it, he was being spun around. He could feel his body temperature increasing, so before Lance could make the next move, Keith quickly took the lead and although his steps weren't as smooth as Lance’s, he was confident in his strength and without warning, dipped Lance. Lance yelped as he suddenly found himself upside down. 

Keith slid his hand across Lance’s lower back for more support. Gods above, Lance had such smooth skin. It was a rich hazel color, and Keith could feel the muscles in his back move as he clung to Keith. 

Keith had never really missed the fact that Lance was attractive, but somehow he hadn't really thought about it before. Now that Lance was laying half naked in his arms, Keith wasn't really sure how he had ever ignored that fact. Jesus, a man could drown in the pools of Lance’s eyes. If Keith could’ve, he would have died and gone to heaven right there and then. He had one of those things checked off.

As Keith pushed Lance back upwards, Lance warbled a laugh and spun Keith around again. 

The song changed, and now something fun and poppy was playing. Lance released Keith from the spin, bumping into him with his hips. It didn't help Keith’s orientation anymore than the spin had, so he dizzily bumped back into Lance, just managing to check him on the hip. 

The springs of the bed creaked noisily as the boys jumped up and down. Lance started singing the words to the song, gasping for air between jumps. His grin was infectious, and soon enough Keith was singing along as well. 

The songs kept playing and the two boys kept dancing and singing as the storm wore on. The warmth in the room seemed to push any memory of the raging storm out of mind.

Lance’s face was red and his chest heaved, gasping for air between laughs and jumps. Keith’s face was also red, but for an entirely different reason. 

As the song changed again, Lance wrapped his arms around Keith’s back and the room was quickly thrown upside down as he dipped him. After the shock wore off, Keith chortled with laughter. 

“Revenge!” Lance said, with a laugh.

Suddenly, Keith found his legs had fallen out from under him and Lance released him, allowing him to tumble back into the bedsheets. Lance continued to dance next to him and Keith felt his mind melt as he looked up at Lance’s legs swaying in front of him. 

Muscles covered in bronze skin twisted and stretched and Keith was entranced by the grace and beauty that existed there. 

“Nice legs,” he said, pulling one from under Lance. The mountain that was Lance, tall, strong, and ever present, cascaded down onto the bed, on top of Keith. For a minute, they just laid there, a tangle of limbs, and a heap of warmth and grins before Lance pressed his face into Keith’s shoulder and they both started laughing.

“Nice hair, mullet.” Lance replied, his fingers running through the hair on the back of Keith’s neck. Shivers ran down Keith’s spine but he lifted his own hands to Lance’s hair.

“Not as nice as yours’.” Keith pushed Lance’s short hair, slick with sweat, into a small Mohawk. Lance made a face and flattened it again.

Lance, who was still on top of Keith, rolled off and flattened himself on the bed sheets with a sigh.

Keith watched as his eyes drooped closed and then opened again. He fought sleep for a few more seconds before surrendering and shutting his eyes, smile still painted on his face.

Before he fell asleep, the last thing Lance thought is how once again, he's never not surprised that Keith is so warm for someone so dead. He rolled over, his back pressed to Keith’s arm, one leg wrapped around Keith’s, an open invitation for Keith to do the same thing. Keith tensed for a moment, before waving his own flag of surrender and rolling over. 

Back to back, the two boys absorbed each other's heat on an otherwise cold night, blissful and unconcerned of any troubles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave your theories and comments! I love reading them and seeing how close people get to guessing what's going to happen. 
> 
> I also have my tumblr: androgynoussnark


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dealing with after effects

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I told you that all my characters do is sleep. Also it's time to see if some of your theories hold any weight ;)
> 
> In personal news, school starts up for me soon and I got my schedule today. AP Psychology and 2 English classes here I come! Also for the first time in 4 years, my best friend and I have academic classes together so that's cool

Morning light filtered in through the shade on Lance’s window, where rain dried on the window pane in the early light. 

Lance rubbed the light out of his eyes and went to stretch his sleeping limbs when he realized there was something heavy on his chest. 

Keith was lying on his bare chest, wearing the clothes he always wore, jeans and a black muscle shirt. His hair was ruffled and when Lance inhaled he could smell something familiar, but unrecognizable. 

It’s not fair. Keith, who had been dead for god knows how long, smelled great, but meanwhile, Lance was pretty sure he smelled like sweat and bed.

Keith stirred, but didn't wake, merely shifting his legs under the covers. Lance froze when he realized that their legs were still intertwined, only the fabric of Keith’s jeans and Lance’s shorts keeping their skin from touching. Not that it really mattered, since Keith’s forehead was plastered to Lance’s collarbone. 

Keith was sleeping closest to the window, so the light painted lines across his pale skin. He seemed to glow, not in the way he did when he was flustered, in a sort of reddish, intense light, but rather a softer, golden one. His skin seemed almost transparent and Lance wanted to reach out and touch it just to make sure Keith was real. 

The glory of morning ended too soon when suddenly Keith started violently shaking and seizing. He rolled off of Lance and clutched the bed sheets like Death himself was trying to take him. 

“Keith! Keith, wake up!” Lance shouted, trying to rouse Keith from whatever’s happening.

Keith winced like Lance’s touch had burnt him, so Lance quickly let go, still calling Keith’s name. Keith flickered in and out of sight and for a minute, Lance’s heart was in his chest as he feared this might be the last time he ever saw Keith.

Keith’s eyes snapped open and he gasped for air, still clutching the bed sheets.

“Keith?” Lance asked. “Can you hear me?” 

“Yeah,” Keith rasped. “I'm fine.”

“Fine? That didn't look fine.”

“There’s nothing I - or you- can do about it.” Keith said simply. 

“What even is it?” Lance fretted. “What just happened?”

“I don't know, but it’s been happening more frequently lately.”

“It’s happened before?” 

“Last night.”

Lance blinked. “Oh.” He said in understanding. 

Keith was looking at him, seeming to gauge his reaction. Lance stared back, hoping that was an acceptable response. 

Keith seemed to accept it, because he rolled over in the bed, facing the window, but keeping his body close enough that his back pressed up against Lance. 

Later that morning, after a hastily made breakfast of cereal and toast and nothing for Keith, the boys found themselves waiting for the public bus. 

“My car was totaled in the crash and Hunk must have slept over Pidge’s last night, so I can't borrow his car either.” Lance explained. 

Lance rubbed the back of his head. “Man, I feel like Hunk’s never around anymore. I know he’s super busy, but…” The thought trailed off as the bus pulled up to the curb.

Although Lance gave a reason for not being able to borrow Hunk’s car, Keith doubted he would let Lance borrow it anyway. As much as Lance hated to admit it, there was still an unspoken tension between him and his friends, and it was clear that his friends were still worried about him. 

After boarding the bus, the two boys dropped into seats next to each other. Keith watched as more people got on and off the bus, observing them as they go about their daily lives. Lance stared out the window, watching the grassy landscape go by. Lance counted the streets until they got to the one his accident happened on. Lance could still see the black tire tracks on the road from where his car had skidded. He caught a glimpse of a small boy and a bi-colored dog playing with a ball in the front yard of one of the houses on the street. The child threw the ball and the dog bounded after it. When the dog returned, ball in mouth, the boy hugged and praised his pet. Lance wondered if the street seemed that serene the day of his accident. What he would give to remember it. 

The bus passed the street without event and Lance let out the breath he didn't know he’d been holding. Meanwhile, Keith fidgeted in the seat next to him.

“Are you okay?” Lance asked.

Keith glared down at his shoes. “Just worried I guess. This isn't like going to a grocery store and asking for my name. This is finding out about my death.” 

Lance wished he could comfort him, but what can you say to someone mourning their own death? 

He bumped arms with Keith. It was the most he could do in a public space, and maybe the most he could do for Keith as well. 

Keith’s face was still pinched with worry, but some of the tension leaked from his shoulders. 

“This is our stop.” Lance said, rising from his seat as the bus slowed to a stop.

After making their way through the small crowd of people waiting to get on the bus, the boys were outside the local flower shop.

“Why are we here?” Keith asked.

“Well, it’s always good to bring flowers to the dead.”

“I mean, I appreciate the thought, but I don't really think my corpse will.” Keith said.

Lance shot him a look. “It’s the principle of it, Keith.” 

As they entered the shop, Keith saw a familiar wave of white hair. The girl who had come to Lance’s apartment a few weeks ago bustled around the shop, tending to some pink flowers.

“Hey Allura.” Lance greeted, a hand in the air.

“Lance!” Allura said with a smile. “Did you come to visit?” 

Lance grinned at her. “I’d like to say I'm here to see a girl prettier than the flowers, but I actually do need a bouquet from you.”

Keith’s eyebrows raised for a moment, but Allura just laughed at Lance’s flirtatious comment.

“Sure. Just give me a second.”

Allura carried a tray of plants into the sunroom and Lance waited at the counter for her to come back. Keith poked a tiny cactus that was sitting next to the register. 

“Did you find yourself a pretty girl?” Allura asked with a grin, coming back into the room and wiping her hands on a towel behind the counter. 

“What?” Lance gaped. 

“Or a pretty boy?” 

Lance’s face turned significantly redder. 

“It’s not like that. I'm just visiting someone and I figured I should bring them flowers.”

“Anything specific you’d like then?” Allura asked.

Lance hesitated. “You’re better at this whole arrangement thing.” Lance waved his hand in the air vaguely. “It’s for someone in the hospital, so something classy.”

“A hospital?” Allura’s interest was peaked, her brows raised, elegant and sharp. “Is it one of your family members?”

Lance shook his head. “No, just a friend.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. White would work well in the bouquet. I’ll be right back.”

Allura’s gaze lingered on Lance for a moment before she disappeared into the sunroom again to collect the flowers she needed. When she came back, she was holding a bouquet of white roses and Lilies. The flowers were beautiful and elegant, but Lance felt like something was missing as he studied the bouquet. 

“Do you have any flowers in blue?” He asked.

“Blue?” Allura asked. She bit her lip, her eyes flickering down to the bouquet. “Like blue delphinium?” 

Lance’s eyes lit up. “Yes!”

Allura came back with the flowers, a deep, rich blue hanging from a stem delicately.

A shiver ran through Keith. There was something really familiar about the flower, it felt like seeing an old friend after a long time apart, warm and comforting.

“Is there anything else you’d like to add?” 

Lance thought for a moment. “Baby’s Breath, please.”

Allura’s face fell and for a strange moment, Keith thought her eyes were watery. As soon as he blinked though, she was smiling again and he was sure he must have imagined it. 

Allura moved to arrange the bouquet again, this time adding small white flowers around the base of the bouquet. As she wrapped paper around the flowers and tied it together with a string of ribbon, something caught in Keith’s throat. Something about the flowers that Lance had added felt so right, like it really made the bouquet personal. This was no longer a run-of-the-mill bouquet with your average sympathy flowers, but rather a devoted statement. Keith had never thought of himself as one who was easily moved by flowers, but somehow Lance had managed to do that.   
    “I hope you find what you’re looking for.” Allura said, handing Lance the bouquet in exchange for cash. Lance’s eyes widened, but he thanked her and the two boys left the shop. 

One quick bus ride later, and they were standing outside the hospital. The hospital loomed above them, a strong, sturdy building with towers of glass windows.  Outside, paramedics rushed emergency patients in and some people stood off to the side, some smoking, some talking on the phone, and some just waiting. 

“Be prepared. I don’t know if they’ll give us any information on the whereabouts of your body.” Lance said.

Keith’s hands were shaking and his body shuddered violently as he flickered in and out for a second. Lance looked at him and seeing the resolute look in his eyes helped Keith steady himself. He gave Lance a nod and then they were walking through the glass doors. 

As the scent of disinfectant crashed over them, Keith suddenly felt anxiety punch him in the gut. He stopped, unsure if he could continue. Lance also stopped, and slowly he took Keith’s hand. He slid both of their hands into his pocket, so people wouldn’t stare at him like he was holding the air. His fingers slotted with Keith’s and the warmth in his hand was enough to unfreeze Keith. 

Slowly, they made their way to the front desk. Behind it, a woman whose dark hair was tied in a tight bun looked up at them. 

    “How can I help you?” She said to Lance. 

    “Um,” Lance said, rubbing the back of his neck self consciously, the bouquet stuck under his arm, “I’m looking for Keith Kogane.”

The woman studied him for a moment, eyes traveling down to the bouquet in his hands, then she checked the files on her computer. 

    “Your name, please, sir.”

    “Lance McClain.”

    “On floor 3, in the red ward, in room 215, Mr. McClain.”

Lance squeezed Keith’s hand in his pocket and thanked the woman. They made their way to the elevator and stood together as the elevator ascended into uncertainty.   
    “That doesn’t sound like the sort of place they would keep a dead body.” Keith said, hope glimmering in his eyes.

    “You’re right.” Lance admitted. “I guess we’re going to find out what’s actually going on.”

The boys were quiet for a moment, standing hand in hand as the elevator whirred around them. 

    “Thanks, Lance. For being here.” Keith said quietly. 

Lance snorted and rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, well, you know. You were always there for me when I needed someone the most.”

Lance was looking at his shoes, his hand still on his neck, his face faintly red. Keith could feel his own body temperature increasing and in the elevator’s mirror behind Lance, Keith could see that his skin was faintly glowing. 

Fuck it. 

Keith grabbed Lance by his jacket and pulled him in. Fuck being friends, fuck the fact that Keith was a ghost and Lance was alive. Everything was about to change, so why not this too. Keith had nothing to lose. 

He pressed his lips against Lance’s. His nerves fluttered in his stomach before he relaxed into it. Electric sensation ran through his thin lips from Lance’s own and _god_ , this was _living_. Lance let out a whimper of surprise, but was soon giving back into the kiss. Keith’s lips were so warm against his own and the box that Lance had locked up tight and thrown away the key to resurfaced in his head. The lock was broken and the box was spilling its contents everywhere, jumbling Lance’s thoughts, quickening his heartbeat, electrifying his veins. 

_Holy shit_ was the only thing Lance could think, but he wasn’t complaining. Although he had been loathe to admit it, he had been wanting to do this for so long, wanting to feel Keith’s smooth skin, wanting to run his hands through his silky hair, wanting to _be_ with him. _Holy shit_ felt like an accurate summary of experiencing those things.

He grabbed onto Keith’s jacket, using the fabric to steady his shaky hands before slowly moving one up to brush the nape of Keith’s neck and then to thread his finger through his charcoal colored hair, which stood out brilliantly from his pale skin. Keith’s lips were as warm as his hands usually were, maybe more so, and Lance wanted to lose himself in the rosy color and sweetness.

Keith wished he could freeze time, never leave the safety of the elevator, of Lance’s embrace, but soon the elevator doors were opening and Lance was pulling away to let Keith find out what was waiting on the other side. 

Lance’s hand remained firm in his as they stepped out of the elevator. Lance was a little breathless and he hastily tried to fix himself by straightening his jacket and smoothing his hair. Keith was always breathless, so this made no difference. 

The red ward was designed simply, just a long hallway with white walls and red checkered tile. Doctors in white coats and blue gloves milled about, carrying equipment and clipboards. 

Lance and Keith both counted the room numbers and as they got closer to room 215, Keith felt a strange feeling in his chest. It was almost like the feeling he had gotten when Lance was away from the apartment for too long, but it was a little different, more urgent and much stronger. 

    Keith tugged on the sleeve of Lance’s jacket with his spare hand. Lance stopped counting room numbers to look at him. 

    “I feel weird.” Keith said. “There’s like a strange stirring in my chest,” He gestured to his chest in a circular motion.

Lance looked concerned, but he couldn’t reply because of all the people surrounding them. He squeezes Keith’s hand tighter and gave him a meaningful look to let him know they could turn around at any point. 

But Keith couldn’t leave now.

Room 215 was in sight and the feeling in Keith’s chest grew tighter. As they stood outside the door to room 215, Lance looked at him again, once again asking silently for permission. Keith nodded and Lance pushed open the door.   
The room was silent and empty, with the exception of a young man tucked underneath the thin covers of a hospital bed. His skin was pale, his eyes shut firmly, his long, dark hair splayed on the pillow behind his head. An oxygen mask sat over his mouth, quietly rasping into the silence. 

There were several Get-Well-Soon cards on the bedside table next to him, as well as a bouquet of flowers including pure white alostremia flowers, vibrantly green fuji mums, and pink roses as pale as Keith’s skin, as well as red ones the same color as his lips. 

Keith’s ghost flickered as he hung onto Lance’s hand like it was the only thing keeping him in this world. For all he knew, it was. 

“Holy shit, Keith,” Lance gaped, “You’re not dead.”

Fighting through his own shock, Keith replied breathlessly, “I’m in a coma.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's this? Keith and Lance have a bonding moment in an elevator part II?
> 
>  
> 
> Thanks for reading guys, we're getting to the thick of it now oh boy
> 
> My tumblr: androgynoussnark


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The situation changes a bit due to recent events.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is one of the longest chapters I've written for this fic, so pat on the back to me.
> 
> Also please enjoy the fluff, it's the last of it you'll be getting for a while. Just kidding! (Or am I?)
> 
> Also my day has been pretty shitty, so I hope this makes yours better! :)

As Lance put the flowers he had brought into a vase on Keith’s bedside table, Keith hovered above his body. His skin was so pale, he could see the blue of his veins underneath the cover of it. Tubes ran from bulky machinery and an IV drip into his veins, keeping his alive. A screen monitored his heart rate, which for his body was apparently steady. Keith felt like his heart was going to burst out of his chest at any moment. As the two stood in silence, looking over Keith’s comatose body, the oxygen mask fastened over his face hissed in and out as it supplied air to Keith’s lungs. 

Lance stepped toward the bed and placed his hand over Keith’s, which was lying dormant over his chest. He was a little surprised to find the skin cold and dry. Keith - the ghost version- gasped and flickered in and out until Lance let go. 

“Maybe that’s what’s happening whenever that happens.” Keith said, looking down at himself. 

“Can you feel it when someone touches you?” Lance asked. 

“I just got chills when you touched my hand, but I’ve never felt that before. Maybe the flickering is the general effect.”

Lance thought about it for a minute. “Maybe it’s your body’s way of trying to be in two places at once.”

Lance turned back to Keith’s body. It was so strange, seeing such a familiar face that looks so different. Keith’s face looked cold and lifeless, a stark contrast to the warm, ever changing face of the Keith that Lance had gotten to know over the past few weeks. 

Ironically enough, ghost Keith seemed more alive than his actual living counterpart. 

The two sat in silence for awhile, watching the slow rise and fall of Keith’s body’s chest. Keith wasn’t sure how long they had been sitting there, but even with the bustling and quiet murmurs of doctors in the hallway, it felt like the three of them were in their own little world. Well, two if you didn’t count Keith’s body as an individual, but it didn’t feel very much like him at the moment.

Keith looked at Lance, who was staring intently at Keith’s body. For a brief moment, caught in hope and the belief that his body was alive, Keith had let himself feel something. If he was alive, he could be with Lance. Looking at his body lying on the bed, Keith wasn’t sure he could call this “living”. What if his body was comatose forever? What would happen between him and Lance then? He had already put his feelings out there, it was too late to take them back now.

Lance looked at Keith, and Keith was a little startled to see his blue eyes so determined and resolute.  
“I’m going to help you Keith. I promise.”

    Keith breathed out. How was it that Lance always seemed to know what he was thinking?

“I know.” Keith said simply. He reached across the bed for Lance’s hand and squeezed it. 

The next day, Lance and Keith were lounging about the apartment. Lance washed the dishes, singing along quietly with the radio that was playing. Meanwhile, Keith was browsing through the bookshelf in the living room to keep himself occupied. 

    “Hey, Lance, what’s this?” Keith asked. 

    “What’s what?” Lance replied, shutting off the water. He moved towards Keith, who was holding a heavy blue book with the outline of silver fish swimming on the cover. “Oh hey, you found my baby book!” 

    Keith raised an eyebrow. “Baby book?”

    “Yup!” Lance grinned. “My mother sent me this when Hunk and I moved in. It’s a photo album from the time I was born until I started at the Garrison.”

Keith opened the book and sure enough, the first page was filled with pictures of a newborn baby swaddled in cloth. Lance’s face was round and chubby, and eyes were squinted, but Keith could still tell they were already beautiful blue color. His head was entirely covered in wispy dark brown hair that laid flat against his head. Several pictures included him being held by his father and his siblings, but the one that Keith was most interested in was the one of Lance’s mother holding him. Obviously, Keith had heard a lot about Lance’s mom, partly from what Lance had told him and partly from the phone conversations Lance had regularly. However, Keith had never met her before. She was a beautiful woman, with curly brown hair that fell to her shoulders and pink cheeks. In the photo, she beamed down at her son, laugh lines prominent around her eyes. Although she was lying in a hospital bed, exhausted after giving birth to another child, the scene in the picture felt so joyous, so alive. Just looking at that one picture was like looking at a celebration and it was obvious that baby Lance was in for a world full of love and affection. 

It was an abrupt difference compared to Keith’s body, pale and lifeless, sleeping but not tired. Every moment in his hospital room felt like a funeral. 

Keith flipped the next few pages of the book, only to find more baby pictures of Lance.

“I was the cutest kid in my family.” Lance said, grinning. “Look at those cheeks!”

“Your hair looks like you stuck your finger in an electrical socket.” Keith noted.

Despite that though, Keith had to begrudgingly agree that Lance’s baby photos were adorable. His heart melted a little with each one. Soon enough Lance progressed into a toddler and as Keith looked over the pictures, Lance pointed out several details, explaining the stories behind the illustrations. 

“This is from my first birthday when I grabbed the burning candle from my cake and threw it on our wooden table,”

“And this is from the time we went to the beach and I tried to bury my brother alive,” 

“Oh, and here’s Halloween from my first year at school! Hunk was a vampire and I was an astronaut!” Lance made a face. “Five minutes after this picture was taken Hunk accidently spilled some fake blood on my costume though, so I had to go around saying I was a zombie astronaut,”

Keith flipped a few pages again, and was met with a picture of Lance... except he didn’t look like Lance. His hair was a little longer and straightened until it fell over one eye and he wore a black Green Day shirt. And... 

    “No!” Lance yelped, slamming his hands over the picture. 

    “Are you wearing eyeliner?” Keith laughed, prying Lance’s fingers from the book.  
     
    “I still look hella in eyeliner, thank you!” Lance yelled. “Just not when it’s done like that.”

Keith bent over, his hands on his knees to support himself as he gasped for air between laughs. 

    “Is that really you? You had an emo phase, Lance!”

Lance’s face flushed, rolling his eyes and muttering under his breath as he flipped the page. 

    “High school was a mistake, okay? Hunk will already never let me live that down, I don’t need the emo edgelord himself giving me crap for it too.”

Keith made a face in protest.

When Lance turned the page, he suddenly froze.

His head pounded and for a minute dizziness overtook him and his vision swam as images flashed in his mind. 

_Keith, Keith, Keith, Keith._

The name rang over and over again in different voices, including his own.

    “-nce? Lance?” Keith asked. He touched Lance’s shoulder hesitantly, looking at him with concern. Lance looked up at him with wide eyes.  
“Are you okay? You seriously zoned out for a minute there.”

    “I think I knew you during your life.” Lance blurted.

Keith pulled away abruptly. “What?”

Lance took a deep breath, trying to process everything he had just remembered. He pointed to the picture in the album. 

    “That’s a picture my mom took on the first day of school at the Garrison.”

Sure enough, in the picture, Lance donned the orange uniform he had worn the other day. He beamed at the person behind the camera, and although he looked very happy to be there, Keith could tell he was also very nervous given by the tenseness of his shoulders. 

    “Okay,” Keith said. “But how do you know that we knew each other?”

    “We didn’t know each other.” Lance said, shaking his head. “I knew _you_. Your name was always at the top of the list for grades, always above mine. You were considered one of the best pilots at the Garrison.” Lance leaned back, one hand in his hair, releasing a breath. “I can’t believe I didn’t remember this.”

    “Why would you remember that? None of that seems very important to you.”

    Lance glared at Keith for a moment, but then he looked away sheepishly. “I was obsessed with you. I wanted to be better than you. We were school mates, but I only knew you because of my jealousy. You definitely would have never noticed me, nevermind _known_ me.”

    Keith’s face softened. “Lance, that’s not true. You’re an amazing pilot and with a personality like yours, you’re practically the brightest person in the room.”

Lance laughed, bumping shoulders with Keith. “Yeah okay, Mullet.”

It suddenly occurred to Keith how closely they were sitting. He could feel Lance’s body shake as he laughed. The movement left as Lance stood up. 

    “I’m going to go back to the hospital to see if I can remember anything else.” Lance said, straightening his clothes. Keith put the baby book back on the shelf. 

As Lance tied the laces on his sneakers, the door to Hunk’s bedroom opened. 

    “Hey Lance, are you going out?” He asked. 

    “Yeah. Do you need something?”

    “No, I was just curious about where you were going. You’ve been out a lot lately.” 

“I’ve been hanging out with Pidge and trying to make up my school work even though I’m not attending, so you know,” Lance said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Busy.”

Hunk gave Lance a once over, but seemed to accept that answer. 

    “Alright, have fun. I’ll see you later.”

As Lance exited the apartment, saying his goodbyes to Hunk, he breathed a sigh of relief. Keith looked at him curiously. 

    “I feel bad for lying, but I don’t know what information I can trust with my friends anymore. I feel like they’re not being honest with me.” Lance admitted, still rubbing a hand across the skin of his shoulders and neck.

    “It’s okay,” Keith comforted. “It would just worry them if you told them you were going to the hospital anyways.”

    In the hospital, Lance pressed the button on the elevator and the boys stood stiffly, a few feet apart. They were both very aware of what had occurred in this elevator last time they rode it. Keith watched the numbers on the elevator slowly change and Lance focused intently on his feet. 

    “Do you wanna talk about it?” Lance asked casually. 

    “It?” Keith asked, even though he knew exactly what ‘it’ Lance was referring to. They had been dancing around the topic and part of Keith was content to keep it that way. 

Lance glared at him. “You know, ‘ _it_ '. The kiss, Keith.”

Keith’s face turned red at the verbal accusation. “I’m sorry I ruined our friendship, it was just an impulsive thought and I felt that if I didn’t act upon it then, I never would and-”

    “It was nice. I enjoyed it.”

Keith’s eyes snapped to Lance, but he was still infatuated with his shoes. His face was flushed and his hands were shoved in the pockets of his jacket. 

    “What?” Keith asked dumbly.

    Lance looked up at him. “I also have feelings for you.”

Keith stared, trying to comprehend the words he must have heard wrong.

    “But… I’m a ghost.”

Lance rolled his eyes. “Thanks, Captain Obvious. Just because you’re a ghost doesn’t mean you don’t have _personality_.”

“Do you maybe,” Keith hesitated, “want to do it again?” 

“Somehow I feel like it would be in bad taste to do that again in the elevator of a hospital or in front of your comatose body.” Lance grimaced.

    “I don’t think my comatose body would mind very much,” Keith grinned. “In fact, he’d probably enjoy the show.”

Lance elbowed Keith and Keith laughed. “Raincheck?” Lance asked. 

    “Sure.” Keith said, still grinning. 

    “Promise?”

    “Promise.”

The doors of the elevator opened to the third floor and the boys made their way down to Keith’s room. 

Lance pulled one of the visitor chairs over to Keith’s bedside and sat down. Keith hovered behind him. 

    “I was thinking that maybe if I touch your body again, I’ll get more of my memories back.” Lance explained. 

He placed his hand over Keith’s body’s, much like he had done the first time. After a minute, his hand traveled to cup Keith’s cheek. Ghost Keith shivered, and then flickered in and out of existence for a second before gaining control again. Lance’s brow furrowed in concentration. His fingers moved slowly, intimately over Keith’s face. 

    “I’m not getting anything.” Lance said, disappointed.  
     
    “It’s okay, we’ll figure something out.” Keith said, placing a hand on Lance’s shoulder. 

    “There must be something we can do.” Lance said thoughtfully. “Keith, can you go stand in the hall?”

    “Why?”

    “I want to try talking to your body. Make a note of anything you feel while you’re out there.”

A little reluctantly, Keith left Lance sitting by his bedside and stepped into the hall. He leaned against the wall, his arms crossed. 

Meanwhile, inside, Lance held Keith’s hand. He cleared his throat a little. He hadn’t really thought this far ahead. In movies, talking to comatose patients brings them back or whatever, but Lance wasn’t really sure what he wanted to say to Keith. 

This Keith was so different to the one he knew. It didn’t feel right to see him so still in the bed. Lance wanted him to pop up, cry “Scared you!” and for them to laugh about it together.

    “Keith? Can you hear me?” Lance asked.

Obviously, Keith didn’t respond, but Lance was kind of hoping he would get a hand squeeze or an eye twitch, or you know, even an inhale of breath. Something. 

Either way, Lance was going to see this to the end. He had to help Keith. 

    “I don’t know if you can hear me, but I want to help you. You have a life, and apparently a brother here. And,” He swallowed. “You have me.”

Keith, standing out in the hallway, couldn’t hear anything. No whisper in his ear, no softly spoken words. Nothing except his own thoughts. 

He peered into his room through the small glass window on the door. From where he was standing, he could just see Lance, leaning over the bed, whispering things into his bodies’ ear. 

He never thought he would say this, but for once, Keith was a little jealous of his comatose body. 

Even though he couldn’t hear what Lance was saying, he could tell it was personal and intimate. Keith was a little shook at how loving Lance looked. Towards him. 

His thoughts flickered back to the conversation in the elevator, where Lance confessed that he liked him. Honestly, it seemed a little too good to be true. Who would love a ghost who couldn’t remember anything about himself? Furthermore, Lance had bent over backwards to help him. Why would someone go to such lengths to help someone like him?

Lance continued whispering things to Keith, things they had done with each other over the past few weeks, the things they would do in the future when Keith returned to his body. They could actually have a relationship, and Lance could finally introduce his friends to Keith. Lance could take Keith to meet his family. 

The cotton sheets of Keith’s bed were soft and the weight of Keith’s hand in his was warm. His eyes became heavy and he put his head down next to Keith’s body just for a second, before that second became a minute, and a minute became several minutes. 

Once again, Lance entered the gateway into his dreams and found himself confronted with a similar situation to the dream he had the night before he had gone back to school.

The careful caress upon his jaw was back and sweet, warm lips pressed to his. 

Lance opened his eyes slowly, expecting to see nothing but flashes of skin once again, but this time the dream was clear and crisp.

Instead of seeing Nyma like he had expected, Keith was standing in front of him.

His dark hair fell in front of his face and he smiled at Lance. 

“Keith?” Lance gaped. 

Keith laughed, a breathy laugh, that rang deep in Lance’s ears. If possible, his jaw dropped even farther. Although, in a dream, it was possible his jaw could drop forever.

“It was you last time too?!” 

Keith laughed again and moved in towards Lance. He didn't push him away and their lips met.  
Lance moved a hand to Keith’s hair, soft and silky in his fingers. Keith intertwined Lance’s free hand with his own.

Lance was okay with spending the rest of his life here, in a universe where he didn't have to worry about Keith being a ghost, where he didn't have to worry about his memories, or anything except keeping the distance between himself and Keith small and making it increasingly smaller. 

However, Lance would be damned if he didn't create that universe in his own world.

Back in the hallway of the hospital, Keith was getting impatient. It felt like Lance had been in there talking to his unresponsive body for forever. It wasn't even doing anything.

Keith let himself back into his hospital room.

“Lan-” 

Lance was hunched over in his chair, his cheek pressed on the bed next to Keith’s still body, his hand still wrapped with Keith’s, fast asleep.

Keith leaned against the wall at the end of his bed and watched the slow rise and fall of Lance’s chest. A bit of drool leaked out the side of his mouth, pooling on Keith’s bedsheets, but somehow he still found it endearing. 

As Lance slumbered on, dreaming of the future of a relationship, Keith watched over him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My Tumblr: androgynoussnark
> 
> If anyone's interested, here's a short playlist for Say You Won't Let Go. Just a couple of songs that came to mind while I was writing this fic: https://open.spotify.com/user/androgynoussnark/playlist/53x8ZHjQ46e0sZpOUEoAQO


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is one of the longest chapters so far at 4k. *sheds a single tear* I'm so proud of myself. 
> 
> We're at the climax now so y'all better buckle your seatbelts, it's a wild ride :)

Keith stared into Lance’s deep blue eyes, as they glinted with lust and affection.

Their heads leaned in closer and slowly, Keith pressed his lips to Lance’s. They were soft and pliant, sweet like honey.

Unlike in the elevator, this kiss was slow and gentle, like they had all the time in the world. As Lance kissed him, Keith savored the scent of his hair, flowery like his shampoo.  
His cheeks were rosy and Keith was so close he could count every freckle that speckled the skin under his eyes like stars in the sky. 

There was something familiar about Lance’s scent, about the taste and feel of his lips. It was like coming home after being away for a long time.

If he was being totally honest, Keith wasn't really sure what was going on with him and Lance. Sometimes they were just hanging out, playing video games. Sometimes they were talking about forgotten memories and Keith’s body, lying unaware across town. Sometimes, on mornings like this, Lance woke up next to Keith, blinked through sleep-watered eyes and grabbed him by the shirt to pull him closer. 

Logically, Keith knew they couldn't be together. A ghost that no one else was aware of and a boy who, in Keith’s mind, was synonymous with sunlight, necessary and bright, together? 

Maybe someday worlds would collide, or they would be reborn. The best case scenario was Keith getting his body back. However, since he had no idea how he was going to do that, he was content to live in the present for now.

And considering that Lance was currently lacking a shirt, Keith thought the present was very nice. 

Keith might not know where their fragile, new relationship was headed, but god, Keith wanted to spend an eternity with Lance, in the warmth of his sheets and the serenity of his bedroom. 

Keith could feel Lance’s slow breathing, whispering along the side of his neck as Lance trailed his way down. 

Lance was so smooth and confident, it felt like he had done this a million times before, like they had been together for 100 years. 

Keith’s hands ghosted over Lance’s back, feeling the taut muscles move, before settling on the back of his neck, fingers ruffling the line where his short, chocolate brown hair met his smooth, bronze colored skin. 

Thirsty eyes met Keith’s own, and his heart beat with a particular hunger. He was drowning, and there was an anchor tied to his leg, making his descent so much faster.

Any resistance Keith had to not getting attached to anyone, any plans of living out the rest of his existence in seclusion as a ghost were gone, because there was no way Keith could let this go. 

Lance breathed Keith in, wishing he could absorb all of the scents that made up Keith. Despite Keith being a ghost, he still felt so solid, so warm, so present. 

Riding the high of affection, Lance pressed his lips to Keith’s collarbone again. He pushed up the black cotton t-shirt Keith always wore and belatedly realized that this was the first time he was seeing Keith without a shirt. 

They had had some intense makeout sessions over the past few days, but none of them had been this intimate. Mostly it was Lance releasing some affection, or Keith randomly craving touch and the two of them affirming their relationship, was in fact, real. 

The skin of Keith’s chest was pale, paler than the rest of his skin, if that was even possible. Lance ran his hand under the shirt, feeling the curve of his chest and the bumps of his nipples. 

Lance looked up at Keith, to see him smiling shyly at him. Keith’s smile was sobering, pulling him down from his high, but his heart swelled at the sight.  

Keith pulled him up and with one hand on Keith’s chest, and the other hand caressing Keith’s cheek, he met Keith’s lips. 

Whenever Keith instigated the kiss, it was always a little more intense, but Lance didn't mind because it was like Keith himself, a little intense. 

Lance rubbed his fingers over Keith’s jaw and held his breath as he was swallowed in the warmth of Keith’s embrace. The curve of his jaw was like the back roads around Lance’s house, curved and familiar.

Lance was ready to get lost in his affection and feelings for Keith, ready to give in to his burning warmth, ready to move on and to be loved by Keith for what he was and was not. 

Suddenly his cell phone rang. Lance groaned and with a disappointed huff, Keith released Lance from his arms. 

“I don't want you to go.” Keith admitted.

“I don’t want to go, but sadly the world continues rotating.” Lance said, with a final kiss to Keith’s jaw. Lance untangled his fingers from the hair behind Keith’s ears so he could roll off the bed and grab his phone from its resting place on his desk.

The number was unfamiliar to Lance. If their makeout session.was interrupted by a telemarketer, Lance was going to be really mad. 

“Hello?” Lance answered.

“May I speak with Mr. Lance Mcclain, please?” A woman’s voice requested politely.

“Speaking.”

Keith watched him from his bed, rubbing the lines of his hips idly. God, how Lance would rather be doing that himself than taking whatever this call was. 

“This is Altea Hospital. You asked to be on the contact list for Mr. Keith Kogane, so we’ve called to notify you of some drastic changes to his condition.”

Every ounce of warmth drained out of Lance. It felt like something had crawled into his throat and died there. 

“Drastic changes?” Lance repeated.

At this, Keith tuned into the conversation and became very still. 

“Yes, the doctor has requested to share the details of these changes with anyone on the contact list in person, so would it be possible for you to come down to hospital anytime soon?” 

“Yes, of course.” Lance said automatically, “I’ll be there right away.” 

“Thank you for your understanding, Mr. McClain, we’ll see you in a bit.” 

Shocked, Lance hung up the phone.

“What’s going on?” Keith asked, rising to his feet. 

“I don't know.”

“Lance?” Keith asked, concern clear on his face.

Lance started pacing through the room, looking for a clean shirt. Frustrated when he couldn't find one, he pulled on a blue baseball shirt that was lying on the ground from two days ago.

“The hospital said there were drastic changes, but we have to go to find out what’s happening.”

Lance numbly knotted the laces of his sneakers. 

Heat coursed through him as Keith placed a hand on his shoulder. 

“Whatever it is, I'm sure it will be fine.” Keith said. “After all, I'm okay, right?”

With his flushed face and messed up hair, Keith _did_ look pretty okay. Lance felt a little comforted. 

One bus ride that Lance couldn't really remember later, they were in the lobby of the hospital again.

The same woman from before was sitting at the front desk. Her eyes softened when she saw Lance.

“McClain, here for Keith Kogane.” Lance stated.

“Right up to his room, Mr. McClain, I’ll notify the doctor of your arrival.”

Lance thanked her and together he and Keith ascended to the third floor in the elevator. It was a somber affair compared to last time. 

Nerves fluttered in Keith’s chest as he tried to figure out what he should be expecting. Lance stared straight ahead, as if he could will the elevator to move faster. 

When the boys got to room 215, a round woman with green eyes and blond hair was waiting for them. For Lance, rather.

“Hello, Mr. McClain. I’m Dr. Platt.”

“Nice to meet you.” Lance said, shaking her hand.

“I'm sorry to call you here without explaining anything, but I figured you would want to hear this news in person.”

Lance stood stiffly, wringing his fingers. Keith held his breath.

“As I'm sure you’re aware, Keith is in what we refer to as a “deep coma”. That means he hasn't been responding to any of the treatment we’ve been giving him. He’s been on life support for the few weeks he’s been here.”

“How long do comas usually last?” Lance asked, balling up his fists. Dr. Platt thought for a minute, clicking her pen subconsciously.

“Most comas only last a few days, sometimes weeks. In a few cases, they can last for years, but cases like that are rare. Usually what happens is patients will gradually come out of a coma, so they regain basic functionalities little by little when they receive basic treatment.” The doctor explained.

“But Keith hasn't shown signs of any basic functionalities?” Lance asked. He exchanged a look with Keith, who felt like he had swallowed something whole. 

Dr. Platt shook her head, causing her blonde ponytail to bounce.

“Because of this, our main concerns with Keith is asphyxiation and severe brain damage.”

Keith's heart sank.

“Severe brain damage?” Lance choked.

“It’s a possibility, not a certainty.” She reasoned. “However, that’s not the reason I've called you down today.”

Whatever she was going to say, Lance wasn't sure how it could be worse. He couldn't imagine Keith with severe brain damage, never able to do the many things he had enjoyed before whatever had sent him here. 

“Considering Keith’s best interest, Keith’s family has decided to ask for a DNR order and I’ve agreed to sign it. It’s a hard choice to make but-”

“DNR order?” Lance questioned, his voice rising. “What’s a DNR order?” 

The doctor blinked and then said slowly, as if Lance was a wild animal not to be scared, “DNR stands for “Do Not Resuscitate”. Since Keith seems to be in an irreversible coma, or has the high possibility of severe brain damage, Keith’s family made the decision to withdraw care in order to end his suffering.” 

The weight in Keith’s stomach became an anchor, tearing him apart and dragging him to the depths of the dark sea. 

“They can’t do that!” Lance admonished. “He still has a chance, right? He can still pull through without any lasting damage!”

“I’m sorry, but that seems very unlikely considering how unresponsive he’s been.” The doctor consoled. “I can assure you that although it’s a hard and tragic decision, it’s usually very quick and always painless for the patient since their pain medication is continued the entire time.” 

“What the fuck?” Lance raved. “I can't accept that! There has to be something you can do to help him.”

“Mr. McClain, if you can't stay calm and rational, we’ll have to escort you off the hospital premises.” Dr. Platt said sternly.

“Calm and rational?” Lance laughed dryly. “My boyfriend is dying and you want me to stay _calm and rational_?” 

Dr. Platt appeared taken aback. Hearing the hurt in Lance’s voice kicked Keith into gear, breaking the shackles of the anchor holding him down. 

“Lance,” Keith hovered behind him, wrapping his arms tightly around him. Lance’s hostile exterior seemed to crumble as he sank into Keith’s arms. 

“No matter what happens, I'll be here. I'll come back. Whatever I have to do.” Keith nuzzled Lance’s neck and he openly sobbed. 

“You won't shake me that easily. I promise.” Keith swore. “I’m here.”

The doctor looked like she wanted to comfort Lance, whose face was in his hands. His chest heaved as he gasped for air. 

“Breathe in and out, Lance.” Keith guided. “It’s going to be okay, we’re going to figure this out.”

Keith had yet to release Lance and slowly, the tears started to stop. 

“It’s okay, sir, take deep breaths.” Dr. Platt instructed, regaining some of her confidence and composure. “Can you speak?”    

“Yes, I'm fine.” Lance said, still looking very not fine. “I just need a moment.” 

He pushed past the doctor and strode into room 215. Keith’s body was lying prone on the bed. It was as if nothing had changed from the last time they had come to visit. In many ways, nothing had changed. In others, everything had.

They stood next to each other, next to Keith’s bedside. 

In the room, nothing has changed. 

Keith was as pale as ever, lying amongst the white sheets, in the same position they had left his body in last. 

An IV was attached to Keith’s veins, providing Keith with the water and nutrients he needed to live.

The machine that monitored Keith’s steady heart beat beeped quietly.

A tube traveled from the electric pump in the machine to Keith’s nose, pumping air into Keith’s unresponsive lungs while the ventilator hissed quietly in the background, waiting for someone to come by and turn it off. 

“There has to be something we can do.” Lance said.

“If there’s nothing we can do, that's fine too.” Keith said.

Lance looked at him, his eyes watery again. 

“How are you so calm about this? It’s your _life_.”

Keith shrugged. “I’m already a ghost and my body is only comatose. What will dying do? Make me a full ghost? I already thought I was dead.”

“What if dying _kills_ you?” Lance asked.

Keith wound his hand with Lance’s squeezing it gently. 

“We’ll figure it out.” He said simply.

“We’ll figure it out.” Lance repeated.

Dr. Platt came in, her clipboard under her arm. As she checked Keith’s vitals, Lance turned to her from Keith’s bedside. 

“When will he be taken off life support?”

    Dr. Platt was quiet for a moment, clearly not wanting to upset Lance anymore than she had. “Later today. I know this is really last minute, but we weren’t aware anyone other than the immediate family was on the contact list until this morning.”

Lance and Keith stared at her, mouths agape. 

There was no time to fix this.

With a curt nod to Lance, the doctor bustled out of the room. Lance buried his head in Keith’s shoulder and Keith ran his fingers through his hair. 

    “It’ll be okay, I swear.” He said. 

    “What are we going to do?” Lance whispered. 

Unfortunately, Keith didn’t have an answer. 

For a while, Lance sat by Keith’s bedside, talking to him quietly. Keith leaned against the wall, pretending he couldn’t hear. He didn’t know what was going to happen, but he wanted to remember Lance as the person he usually was around Keith, not someone grieving over his death. He silently tried to will his spirit back into his body, tried to make himself wake up, as if it was a dream. 

Feeling the effort was futile, Keith started watching the clock, watching the hands move closer to the determined time. Eventually, Lance slumped on the bed, his hands fisted into his hair. Keith stepped up behind him, laying a hand gently on his shoulder. 

    “Hey, let’s go take a walk.”

Lance nodded mutely and stood. Together, they walked to the nearest vending machine and Lance inserted a dollar, punching the buttons, and receiving a water bottle. He twisted the cap and took several large gulps of water, throwing his head back. When he finished, he wiped any residue away with his arm.

    “I don’t think I can watch.” He said quietly. 

Keith blinked. “That’s okay. We can go home.”

Lance shook his head. “I know you want to be here and besides, I can’t miss something so important. I’ve already failed to help you. I can’t fail to be here for you too.”

    “We can wait in the hall.” Keith reassured him. 

The tension leaked out of Lance’s shoulders, his posture loosening. 

    “Okay. There’s a window, so you can still see what’s happening to your body.” Lance said. “It’s really the sounds I don’t want to hear. Your body is already so quiet, I don’t think I could bear to hear the machines stop and then your breathing-” His voice cracked and he let the sentence hang heavily in the air. They spent the rest of the time walking around the hospital, but both of their minds were elsewhere. 

They stood outside the hospital room, hand in hand. The hall was quiet, doctors absent, occupied with other patients. The door to room 215 was closed, but through the window they could see that the curtains had been adjusted and the lights dimmed so the room was dark, but comfortable. They could just make out the outline of Keith, illuminated by the monitor displaying his heartbeat and vitals, and the silhouettes of his family gathered around the bedside. 

Although Keith couldn’t make out their features, he was a little surprised to see so many people. He counted four indistinguishable heads, and pondered for a moment about how although these people obviously cared about him, he couldn’t remember any of them.

The person he cared the most about wasn’t in that room anyway. 

Lance stood quietly, his arms crossed, trying to discover the secrets of the floor. Keith pulled his close, so that they were standing shoulder to shoulder. 

    “I’m not ready.” Lance murmured.

Keith nuzzled his shoulder. “This isn’t goodbye.”

For a few minutes, they sat in silence, relishing in each other’s company. Keith could tell when the doctors “pulled the plug” because he felt a tugging sensation in his torso. This wasn’t like when he had been drawn to Lance, but was rather a pulling. Not towards his body, but away from it. Into nothingness. It wasn’t painful, but it was strong and made him feel sluggish and heavy. He tried to push it down and suppress it, but it seemed to bubble in his chest. 

Through the window, he could see the shape of a rather tall and buff man stroking his hair, and a woman holding his hand. Once again, he couldn’t feel any of these gestures but he appreciated them. At the foot of his bed, the shape of an older man and a young woman hugged. 

Suddenly, the bubbling feeling overflowed and Keith started flickering intensely. One minute his hand was latched with Lance’s, the next it wasn't. Lance tried to hold onto his tighter, but it was futile. The harder he tried, the more Keith seemed to disappear from existence. 

“Keith! Don't go!” Lance said desperately. 

“I don't...ow wha-...appening…” Keith said. It sounded like he was speaking out of an old radio, staticky and hard to make out.

Tears slipped out of Lance’s eyes. Why was there nothing he could do? His hands shook violently as he tried to keep ahold of Keith. Keith clung to him like a lifeline.

Lance tried to control his breathing. He couldn't afford to break down when Keith needed him, but his mind was consumed with doubts and worries. His shoulders shook as he heaved for breath. Despite the large breaths he was taking, it felt like his lungs were cut off from air. Maybe this was all a twisted dream and he was the one on that bed. 

“...ance, stay -alm...ke it back, I sw-”

“No, please, don’t go!” Lance pleaded. 

Keith tried to keep his grip on reality. He needed to help Lance, he couldn't leave, he had promised. One minute, he was staring at Lance, who looked desperate and small, and the next, he was staring into the void of nothingness. 

He couldn't go yet. He still had to help Lance get back his memories. He wanted to listen to Lance as he told him everything he could remember, flailing his hands in the air to drag his point across. He wanted to kiss Lance, feel the chill of his lips against his overly warm ones. He wanted to be there for Lance when Lance needed him, like Lance had been for him when the thought of finding out about his past paralyzed him. He wasn't done finding out about himself, either. He had a _brother_ , and a _family_ , maybe just a few feet away from him. They must be hurting just as much as Lance would be if Keith disappeared. He couldn't do that to them, any of them.

Keith made one last noise of desperation. He tried to make himself present, a thing of existence, but as he struggled the periods of darkness seemed to become longer and the instances of seeing Lance’s face, of feeling his hand in his, became shorter and fewer.

Until they were no more.

Until Keith was no more.

There was nothing except darkness. 

 

The pleading sound that fell out of Keith’s mouth broke Lance’s heart. His eyes became glassy as he stared at Lance, and then through him. With one final violent flicker, Keith disappeared from existence like the light of a candle. His warmth disappeared and there was nothing in front of Lance except empty air.   
Lance’s hand felt cold and empty, lacking Keith’s warmth.

It felt like death himself had come to take Lance. His lungs hurt, his chest hurt, his head hurt, everything hurt. He struggled to breath, hyperventilating.

His head pounded as images flashed through his head, as vivid as scenes from a movie. 

Scenes of Keith comforting him, like the time in the bathroom at the Garrison, but in Lance’s living room, his bedroom, and a bedroom Lance had never been to, but given the motorcycle pictures on the wall and the jacket on the bed, was undeniably Keith’s. 

Keith had his arms wrapped around Lance, Lance messed up his hair and he pouted, they kissed deeply and Pidge’s voice in the background yelled,“Get a room!”, and then laughed.

When had all this happened? Were these memories? Lance covered his eyes, trying to ignore the stabbing pain in all the parts of his body, trying to focus through his grief to absorb all the details he could.

Suddenly, for one instant, he could see Keith, unmoving and covered in blood. 

Lance gasped, lurching himself from his mind and slamming himself against the wall of the hospital, desperate for some stability. Even with the wall supporting him, it felt like his world had turned upside down. 

He had heard screaming in the background of whatever that just was. Was it him? 

Lance cradled his face in his hands as he sobbed. Why was he so powerless? He had promised that he would help Keith, had sworn that he would help him return to his body. They were supposed to have time to figure that out and once that hurdle was cleared, they were going to get Lance’s memories back and live together. Lance has promised his body he would let him meet his friends and family. 

The image of Keith, bloody and still, was at the front of Lance’s mind. Had that been a scene from Keith’s accident? Had Lance been there?

What if he had been trying to help Keith this whole time and in reality the accident was his fault?

The gripping feel of helplessness overtook Lance as he clawed at his hair. Everything was numb and frozen, except for his mind, which felt like a meteor has just run through, burning a hot trail in his head and leaving nothing except destruction in its wake. 

He pressed his hands to his face even harder, as if he could make a mask that would hold back his tears and block out reality. 

He wished he could melt into a puddle, into nothingness like Keith, just to stop the pain, just to see Keith again.

His breathing was out of control, and no matter how much air Lance sucked in, he couldn't get any air to his lungs.

Voice broken and raw, he started counting.

“O-one,”

_In_

“Two,”

_Out_

“T-three,”

_In_

Unlike last time, counting did nothing to slow his breathing and calm him. If anything, it made him sob harder as he pictured Keith crouched on the dirty bathroom floor trying to comfort him.

Something touched his shoulder and Lance flinched.

“Keith?” Lance asked, hope flooding his veins and thawing the cold that had spread through his body. 

The hand retracted for a second before replacing itself.

“No, it’s Shiro. Can you open your eyes for me, Lance?” He asked.

Shiro’s voice, usually strong and powerful, sounded tired and broken. 

Lance slowly opened his eyes and lowered his hands. Shiro’s face hovered in front of his own, his eyes were red and it looked like he had either forgotten to shave or hadn't cared enough to. Behind Shiro stood Allura, Coran, and a woman that Lance guessed must be Shiro's mom, since she had the same dark hair and on point eyeliner. They were all crying quietly. Coran stood hugging the woman. Allura clung to Shiro’s prosthetic hand. Lance blinked through the tears.

“Shiro? Why are you here?”

“Same as you. For Keith.” Shiro’s voice broke a little when he said Keith’s name.

He squeezed Lance’s shoulder, but suddenly it felt like a crushing weight. Shiro’s hand was bigger than Keith’s and it belonged to someone who had been lying to him about Keith until now. He shrugged Shiro’s hand off. 

How could his friends keep this from him?

“Can I get you anything?” Shiro asked.

In that moment, the only thing Lance wanted was the only thing he couldn't have.

Instead, he shook his head numbly. He looked Keith’s brother in the eye. 

“Shiro,” he croaked. “You have an awful lot of explaining to do.”

Shiro stared at him. He exchanged a look with Allura and together they looked very guilty. After a moment of hesitation, he nodded. 

“Let’s go back to my house and we’ll explain everything.” Shiro said.

Everything inside Lance was numb, but the one other feeling he had was tired. Lance was very tired. 

“Everything?” Lance asked. “No more lies?” 

“No more lies.” Allura promised.

Together, the group left the hospital. All that remained was a husk of what Keith had been, a broken vessel for his personality and thoughts, which was no more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry Lance. Next chapter all is revealed. 
> 
> come yell at me on my tumblr: androgynoussnark
> 
> Thanks for reading you lovely folk, please leave your theories and complaints in the comments


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to find out the truth. Sometimes the truth hurts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All is revealed. 
> 
> Was your theory correct? Leave me nice comments and the next chapter will be up even faster ;) (jk SYWLG runs on a schedule, so it will be up on Friday)

When Shiro's car, packed with Shiro, Shiro’s mom, Coran, Allura, and Lance, arrived at Shiro's house, there was already a car waiting for them in the driveway. Hunk leaned against his car, holding a large cardboard box in his arms. Pidge was sitting on the hood, fidgeting with a gadget.

“It’s better if everyone is here to explain,” Shiro explained.

When Shiro pulled the car into the driveway, they stood at full attention. 

In the corner of the driveway, a well loved, shiny red motorcycle was parked. Lance’s throat constricted. He wanted to curl into a ball inside Shiro’s car and never leave. 

Coran got out of the car and offered a hand to Lance, who took it and allowed Coran to pull him out of the car. He was very tired and his legs felt stiff and heavy. 

Pidge came up to Lance and tried to take his arm, but he shrugged them off. He wasn't in the mood for dealing with false niceties. 

Hunk placed a hand on Shiro’s shoulder.

“Hey man, I'm so sorry for your loss.” 

Shiro nodded numbly and his mom started to cry again. Shiro hugged her before Coran ushered her back into the house.

Hunk looked at Lance, and he and the rest of the group exchanged a silent conversation.

“How are you holding up, buddy?” He asked gently.

Lance wanted to be mad at Hunk. He obviously had known what was going on, but when his best friend of so many years spoke to him, whatever energy and resistance that was left drained out of him and all Lance had left was the cold numbness. 

“Keith’s gone.” Lance said, hugging himself.

Hunk wrapped Lance in his arms, and he didn't protest. Hunk was nowhere near as warm as Keith had been, but it was a comfort nonetheless. 

“Why don't we go inside and we can talk about this? Does that sound okay?” He asked.

Lance nodded stiffly. Before he knew it, he had been ushered into the house and they were all sat on the couches in Shiro’s living room. Coran pushed a warm mug of something into his hands, but when he took a sip all he could taste was bitter. 

His friends sat facing Lance, holding their own mugs, sitting stiffly and exchanging guilty looks. Allura kissed Shiro on the cheek, murmuring reassurances to him, before she sat down next to him. 

“Did your memories come back?” Allura asked, addressing Lance. 

“Some of them,” Lance admitted. “But I don't know if all of them did.”

“Why don't you start with what you remember and then we’ll fill you in on the rest?” Shiro suggested. 

Lance nodded, sagging on the couch and staring down at his mug as he swirled the contents.

“I was dating Nyma, and we broke up but it wasn't recently, like you said. It was over a year ago, which is why I can remember it so well.” Lance said, looking to his friends for confirmation.

“Yes.” Shiro said. “After the accident, the doctors questioned you on what you could remember. You might have forgotten, because you were on a lot of pain medication and really tired, but you said you could remember going to school and your girlfriend breaking up with you.”

“How much do you remember about Keith?” Hunk asked. There was a weight as heavy as an anchor attached to his name. 

For a moment, Lance considered telling them about becoming friends with his ghost, but quickly decided against it. 

“He had an accident and I...I was there.” Lance said, his voice cracking. “There was more than that though, right?” 

Shiro nodded. 

“Do you remember why Nyma broke up with you?” 

“What does that have to do with anything?” Lance snapped.

Shiro looked evenly at him, his exhaustion evident. “Lance, if you want to know what happened, you’re going to need to trust me. Do you remember what happened with Nyma?”

Lance thought about it for a moment.

Once again,  Lance saw the quirk of her lips. This time though, instead of her voice becoming distant and faded, it was clear, and he could hear exactly what she had said.

_“I’m sorry, Lance. I should have told you sooner, but I’m just not interested anymore. Rolo promised to take me out.”_ She leaned in conspiratorially, with a sultry smile. _“He’s much better at sex,too.”_

If it was possible, Lance’s face fell even farther, pain stabbing through his heart as if he had just been broken up with again. Of _course_ Rolo, the cashier at the grocery store, knew who he was. That was why he owed him “a good turn”. He took a deep breath. That was in the past. 

“I remember.”

His friends gave him a pitying look as Shiro continued.

“Well, you were devastated, and for good reason, for a long time after that. But Keith was really determined to help you and he was there when you needed him the most.”

Shiro rubbed his buzzed hair. “I thought he liked you at that time and I told him he should be careful trying to start a relationship with you when you were still hurting like that, but Keith,” Shiro laughed a little. “He looked at me like I had two heads. He said ‘I don't like Lance like that, we’re just friends! And as his friend, I can't stand to see him broken and hurt!’”

Pidge handed Lance a tissue and he blinked at it before Pidge gestured to his face. He lifted a hand to find that tears had started rolling down his cheeks again. He silently took the tissue and wiped his eyes.

“Anyways, maybe 2 or 3 months later, you and Keith started officially dating.” Shiro said.

Hunk stepped forward, picking up the large cardboard box that he had been holding before. 

    “This is all of Keith’s stuff that was in our apartment. Sorry I took it.”

Lance cradled the box in his arms for a moment as Hunk handed it to him. Inside was many of Keith’s clothes and some of the comic books they had taken turns reading and a small knife that Keith carried around for self defense. Usually it was always on his person, but he must’ve taken it out to show Lance something all those weeks ago and never put it back in his pocket. 

Lance held his head in his hands as memories flooded in. How could he forget all of this? Him and Keith cuddling and whispering as they marathoned movies with Pidge and Hunk, drinking smoothies together, and always competing to see who was better at doing random challenges before they inevitably ended up calling a tie and making out.

He had been looking for these memories for so long and all along they had been right in front of him. 

He felt the couch sink next to him, and a pressure was applied to his shoulder.

“Lance?” Allura’s voice, soft and sweet, floated above his head. “Is it okay to continue?”

Lance lifted his face, no longer trying to suppress the tears. He nodded jerkily, not pulling away from Allura. 

Shiro’s eyes were focused on the floor and his fingers traveled over his prosthetic arm, as they often did when he was thinking about his accident. 

“A few months ago you and Keith went out together and you guys got into a car accident. You called 911 before you passed out. The call wasn't really coherent, but they dispatched an ambulance and you both were taken to the hospital.” 

Shiro flexed the fingers of his prosthetic arm.

“You had both lost a lot of blood and Keith was reported comatose. The doctor said you had suffered brain damage from hitting your head on part of the car, and possibly from trauma, and we found out that you had lost over a year’s worth of memories. We can't really tell you any details from the accident because we don't know what really happened.”

“I do.” Lance said quietly. The entire room froze, staring at Lance.

Not only could Lance now remember the image of Keith, bloody and still, draped over the steering wheel of the car, straining against his seat belt, he could remember everything that had come before. In the absence of Keith, his head had become clearer, but so much darker. 

It had been a rainy day, one like any other. Silver droplets fell from the gray skies, which hung heavy with rain overhead. The wind had whistled through the trees, singing songs that no human could understand. 

Over the course of their relationship, Lance had explained to Keith how much the ocean and rain meant to his family, how it practically fueled their will to live. 

On that particular week, Lance was severely homesick and stressed out, missing home and feeling like he was worthless at the work he was doing at the Garrison. 

Keith had told him that they were going out for a surprise, something to help distract Lance from his problems. Lance had happily agreed, eager for some fun and time with his boyfriend. 

Driving through the puddles, rain hitting the windshield and dripping down in little rivers, Lance had pestered Keith to tell him what the surprise was.

“Tell me!”

“It wouldn't be a surprise then.” Keith said.

“I’ll kiss you if you do.”

Keith grinned. “You’ll kiss me if I don’t.”

Lance pouted, crossing his arms and turning away from Keith. “Nope. I’ll never kiss you again. Ever.” 

Keith gasped in mock shock and Lance stuck out his tongue. 

“Hmm, in that case,” Keith hummed. “If you guess, I’ll tell you if you’re right.”

“Are we getting ice cream?” 

“Nope.”

“Going to the movies?”

“Guess again.”

Lance studied the streets they were passing, dark and wet, but not unrecognizable. 

“Are you taking me to the beach?” Lance’s grin spread over his whole face, pushing his freckles on his cheeks up to his eyes.

“You owe me a kiss.” Keith said.

Lance leaned across the seat and sloppily kissed Keith on the cheek, making a loud smacking noise on his skin.

“Ew!” Keith cried, wiping the slobber from his cheek and pushing Lance away with a laugh.  
   
Lance settled back into his seat as Keith turned onto a road that they had driven down a million times before.

In the rain, everything about the street looked shiny and reflective. The white of the houses stood out against the gray skies and the light bulbs of the lampposts on the side of the road shined their yellow fires into the puddles on the road, creating the illusion of otherworldliness. 

They drove down the road in relative silence, smiles still on their faces, only the sound of the radio quietly playing in the background and sound of the rain pounding on the rooftop and windows of the car to fill the silence. Everything felt peaceful and private, like nothing outside the walls of the car mattered. 

In a flash, a white and brown streak of fur darted from the sidelines. Out of the corner of his eye, Keith saw a child run after the streak of fur, only stopping at the curb when the dog ran into the road, right in front of their oncoming car. 

“Stop!” Lance screamed as Keith slammed on the brakes of the car. 

The wheels skidded on the water underneath the tires, the road slick with fresh rain.

The boys screamed as the car kept sliding across the road towards the dog. On the side of the road, the child could do nothing except watch helplessly as his beloved family pet ran with no intention of stopping in front of a car that despite having the intention of stopping, couldn't. 

“Oh my god!” Keith yelled, hands tightly clenched on the wheel.

“Stop! Stop! Stop!” Lance screamed, no longer at Keith, but rather at the car, begging it to stop.

In one devastating moment, the world was contained to that street, to that car. Time froze, except for the movement of the car and the dog, too slow in feeling, too fast to do anything about. The rain poured from the sky, Lance’s screams mixed with the screams of the young boy on the curb, and together with the screeching of tires, it made a cacophony of deafening noise.

At the last minute, Keith swerved to avoid hitting the dog. 

For a minute, they thought they were safe. 60 seconds too soon, that minute ended. The tires squealed as they lost traction and the car slid across the road, hitting the guardrail before the car tipped onto its side, screeching across the gravel before it stopped. 

The crash itself was incredibly loud, like a thousand explosions, but everything after it was painfully quiet. The only sounds that could be heard was the faint crying of a child somewhere behind the car, the thundering of rain above, slamming into the car and the road and anything it could take out its aggression on, and the rattling breaths of the two boys inside the car.

The glass windows shattered, raining down on the boys, nicking open their arms and skin. At the impact of the crash, both boys lurched forward. Keith’s seatbelt failed to catch him, and his head slammed on the steering wheel. Lance’s seatbelt snapped him back, throwing him back into his seat. His head lolled to the side and the side of his skull hit the car.

Everything went dark.

Moments later, Lance was blinking through his hazy vision. Rain was coming into the car through the broken windows, pelting Lance on his face. Everything hurt, but his arm was raw and covered in blood and his head throbbed with pain.

_Keith Keith Keith Keith_

Slowly, he turned his head to look at the driver’s seat. Keith was slumped at the wheel, blood dripping from the matching cuts he wore on his arm and a severe injury to his head. His eyes were closed, although Lance could still hear the rattle of his breath.

“Keith?” He croaked.

Keith made no effort to respond, no answer, no groan, not even the opening of his eyes. 

With effort, Lance moved one of his arms, stretching it across the console of the car. With what little control of his body he had, he nudged Keith even though it sent pins and needles up his arm.

“Keith?” Lance’s voice broke. “Keith, _please_ respond.”

Keith made no movement once again.

“Keith!” Lance pleaded through tears.

With shaky hands, Lance reached for the pocket of his jacket, grasping for his phone. By some miracle, it was still there and not on the floor of the car. 

Using his trembling fingers, Lance dialed 911.

“Hello, this is 911. What is your emergency?” The operator asked.

Lance took a deep breath. Even though panic was bubbling in his chest, he needed to stay calm, for Keith’s sake. 

“My boyfriend isn't responding. There’s been a car accident.” 

“I'm sorry sir, but the connection is very bad. Can you stay calm and repeat that, please?” 

Tears leaned down Lance’s face as he fought to remain calm. 

“There’s been a car accident. “ He said slowly and as loudly as he could muster.  “My boyfriend and I are bleeding, but he’s not responding. He’s still alive and he needs help as soon as possible!” Lance hiccuped, his sobs becoming audible. “Please help Keith. Please come soon. There was a kid too. I think he’s fine, but I don't _know_ ,”

“Sir, help I-...ay, please re-...lm, someone wi...ou.” The operator’s voice cut in and out as the connection suffered.

“Hello?” Lance said. “Hello?”

His sight started to dim again as blood rushed up to his head, making him dizzy. The phone slipped from his grasp as he lost control of his muscles and exhaustion overtook him.

_I love you,_ he thought, wishing Keith could hear him telepathically.

The last thing he saw before waking up in a hospital room with no memories of what was possibly the best year of his life was Keith, in the same spot he had been in before, his long, beautiful black hair splayed across his face, matted and sticking to the bloody spots of his face, his dark eyelashes fluttering with sleep and ruby droplets of his blood dripping onto the steering wheel below him, like rain drops on the window pane.

When Lance had finished telling his story about the accident, everyone sat in somber silence. Pidge and Hunk sat hugging each other, Coran was trying to comfort Shiro, who had buried his face in his hands and Allura was wiping her face with a tissue. Only Lance sat there, not unaffected, but numb to the situation. 

“I’m so sorry,” Allura said remorsefully, pulling Lance in for a hug. “I had no idea.” 

“Why?” Lance asked. Everyone looked up at him. “Why did you lie about something like this?”

Shiro hesitated, clearly looking for someone else to say something before reluctantly accepting responsibility.

“We didn’t want to hurt you. You didn't remember anything about the accident or about Keith. The doctors thought it might set back your recovery if you were grieving the loss of a boyfriend you couldn't remember while you tried to deal with the loss of your memories.”

“That’s bullshit!” Lance thundered, balling his fists, and standing up from the couch. “Was _this_ not going to hurt me?”

“No offense Lance,” Hunk said, rising to comfort his friend, “but you tend to take things really hard and then blame yourself for them, like what happened with Nyma.”

“You spent weeks depressed and thinking that there was something wrong with you that made Nyma cheat on you until Keith finally managed to convince you otherwise.” Pidge pointed out. “We didn't want the same thing to happen again, but to a worse degree.”

“You don't understand!” Lance cried, falling to his knees. “It _is_ my fault. I said I would help him. I _promised_.”

His voice cracked around a sob that had welled up at the thought of his promise. He stopped freely, no longer able to suppress the emotions of letting Keith down. 

Allura crouched down next to Lance.

“It’s okay, Lance. You did all you could. You even brought him his favorite flowers, right? I'm sure he appreciated it.”

A lump formed in Lance’s throat.

His favorite flowers. Every time Lance bought Keith flowers, he’d put baby’s breath and blue delphiniums in the bouquet. Keith would always put baby’s breath and red marigolds. It was their tradition. 

Knowing that Keith’s ghost had appreciated the flowers did nothing to quell Lance’s rage that had been born from his sadness and grief. It anything, it fueled it. 

“That’s just it though! You _knew_ that I kne- that I remembered Keith. And yet you played with me!”

“I didn’t!” Allura cried, eyes widening. “I just thought it would be nice for him to get the flowers he always got from you if you were going to visit Keith!”

“Woah, wait, what?” Pidge said, stepping in between Lance and Allura. “You went to visit Keith?”

“That’s where we found him, at the hospital,” Shiro supplied helpfully. 

Lance turned to look at Pidge and his anger reared it’s ugly head again.

“And _you_! I _directly_ asked you what you knew about Keith and you lied to me!” He lowered his eyebrows and glared daggers at them. Smartly, Pidge took a large step backwards as hurt flashed through their eyes. 

“Look, I'm sorry, but we agreed as a group that we weren't going to mention Keith to you so that we wouldn't trigger any negative memories. I didn't know what you had remembered, except that you seemed to think Keith was dead.” Pidge paused.

“I felt bad about lying to you, especially after I came out to you and said there would be no more secrets between us. That’s why I told you that Keith wasn't dead. Besides if you had checked the local cemetery records yourself, you wouldn't have found any records of the name Kogane because Keith’s an orphan moved through the system, so he has no family here.”

“How was that supposed to help me? I still wouldn't have known what happened to him, except that Keith-”

Lance collapsed in on himself. Without Keith’s help, they wouldn't have found out anything about Keith's past. Had Lance even helped at all? 

“I tried to help you, even if I didn't know how.” Pidge said weakly.

Broken and tired, Lance snapped.

“Well, you didn't! None of you helped me by lying to me and I wasn't able to help Keith and now it's too late because you gave up on him and now he’s…” Lance’s rant ended weakly as his voice gave way. “Now he’s gone.”

He placed both of his palms to his forehead, fingers splayed as he studied the ground, wishing it would open up and swallow him, take him to whatever afterlife Keith was in.

“Gave up on him?” Shiro glowered, narrowing his eyes. “Lance, taking my _little brother_ off life support was the hardest thing I ever had to do. Will ever do. I didn't want him to spend the rest of his life in a hospital bed, suffering.Think about how much he would hate that, Lance.”

Lance’s shoulders slumped, the fight drawn out of him. Shiro was right, if he hadn’t been a ghost, Keith would've hated that. If he was in Shiro’s place, he would've done the same thing. But the fact that Lance had known Keith as a ghost, had been given a thread of hope that the others didn't have, made letting go of Keith even more painful than it already was.

When Lance looked up, his friends were all crying. Pidge towered over where he kneeled on the floor, tears brimming their eyes. 

“Don’t, for one second, think you were the only one who loved Keith. Who wanted to help him. I’m sorry for lying to you and I know you’re grieving, but seriously, fuck you, Lance.” They furiously wiped the tears that escaped under their glasses away with their sleeve before dashing out of the room. Hunk started to follow, but Coran pulled him back.

“Maybe give number 5 a minute to themself?” He suggested.

Hunk nodded numbly, bowing his head.

Now that the heat of Lance’s rage had subsided, shame and pain filled the cavity in Lance’s chest. Obviously his friends loved Keith. Keith and Shiro were as close as two brothers could be. Lance had just been so angry at his friends for keeping secrets and so upset about Keith’s death, and consequently his disappearance, that he had let his emotions blindside him as to how his friends could be feeling.

He needed to apologize to Pidge, and the rest of his friends, but before that, he needed to make sure Keith really wasn't coming back.

Keith had promised he would come back and Lance wasn't sure what one could do to defy the afterlife. If there even was an afterlife.

If Keith had managed to go through on his promise, there was one place Lance had a feeling he would be.

On trembling legs, Lance stood up and turned to Shiro. He knew his voice was raw and broken, but slowly he asked,

“I'm sorry Shiro, but can I go up to Keith’s room?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I loved reading the theories on what you guys thought happened, some people got pretty close but no dice XD
> 
> Ugh, I'm in a rotten mood because I go back to school tomorrow and I failed my driver's test for the third time. It's always little stuff too, so knowing I'm so close to getting my license makes it even more frustrating :(
> 
> On a brighter note, we have two chapters left of SYWLG! I've been having a lot of fun writing these past few chapters and I'm very excited to share them with you, I think the next chapter is the longest I've written so far. You guys always brighten my day, so thanks for reading! <3
> 
> If you wanna chat hmu on my tumblr: androgynoussnark


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance goes up to Keith's room and cue the feels

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter after this folks! WE'RE SO CLOSE. This is the longest chapter so I hope you all enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it!
> 
> On a more personal note, I got my driver's test bumped up to 2 weeks from now (which is as soon as I can legally take it) and the chances of me passing are looking pretty good. Also school's officially started now and even though I'm taking an AP psych class along with another psych class that are kind of heavy on the workload, it's not bad. Anyways, this fic is sort of my way of de-stressing so thanks again for liking it so much!

Lance followed his feet up the stairs of Shiro’s house and down the darkened hall. Multiple doors lined the hall of the house, leading to one white painted wooden door.

As he walked, memories flooded back about his uncertainty at seeing Keith’s room for the first time, as later in their relationship they drunkenly fumbled down the hall in the early hours of morning, snatching kisses from each other the whole time. He had been down this hallway so many times it was hard to believe he had ever forgotten it.

How could he forget the scent of the wood, the creaking floorboards if someone stepped on the wrong one, Keith’s lips on his own, his back against the wall?

Lance placed his hand on the knob, the brass worn and familiar under his fingertips. He hesitated before turning the knob.

Shiro had told him that nothing had been touched since the day Keith left.

Even so, Lance was uncertain what would be on the other side. 

The knob felt stiff with disuse, covered in a thin layer of dust. As Lance pushed open the door, the brightly illuminated room opened up before him. 

True to Shiro’s word, Keith’s room was exactly as he had left it. 

On the wall was a bulletin board, plastered in sticky notes covered in Keith's hasty scribble, cut out articles, and lots of pinned up string as Keith had worked out various theories of his. NASA posters and images of motorcycles covered whatever space was remaining. 

The bed was unmade, Keith’s red comforter torn to the side from where he had freed himself from the sheet’s embrace the morning of the accident, unaware of what was to come. Lance wondered how many times they had cuddled up to each other in those same sheets.

The floor was just as messy as the bed, covered in clothes that Keith had deemed unfit for his closet or a laundry basket. Lance recognized several of his own t-shirts among the piles. A few glow in the dark stars stuck to the ceiling where Lance had put them months prior. 

The only thing missing in Keith’s bedroom was Keith himself.

Emotion overpowered Lance as he stepped over the threshold and he closed the door, sinking to the ground with his back pressed up against it. 

A primal sob tore itself from his throat, tears coming hot and fast as memories flood back.

As he sat cradling himself on Keith’s bedroom floor, any residing anger seeped out of him and through the floorboards. He had been so angry with his friends for keeping something so important from him, but now he felt bad for snapping at them.

They were right, he did feel responsible.

He had promised that he would help Keith. He had _promised_. If Lance hadn’t interfered, hadn’t pushed Keith into finding his memories, Keith never would have gotten his hopes up, never would have lost all the things that were almost in his grasp. They had acted like they had all the time in the world, but in reality that was never true. Lance had had the nerve to yell at Shiro for giving up on Keith, but it was Lance who had failed him, not Shiro. 

And to make matters worse, his friends hadn’t been the only ones keeping secrets. Lance hadn’t told them that Keith had been a ghost. He had robbed Shiro of his little brother, taken Keith from his friends. Even if they couldn’t see him the same way Lance had, that didn’t mean that they couldn’t have communicated. It didn’t mean the others didn’t want Keith back any less.

Not only had Lance snapped at everyone, but he had betrayed them too. At least he had gotten to be with Keith before he died, the Keith that he remembered, not the one who had lain so still in the hospital bed. Lance sucked in a breath, pushing his head against the back of the door. 

God, he had never hated himself more than he did right now. 

Something red caught Lance’s eye and he pulled Keith’s motorcycle jacket from a pile of discarded clothes on the ground. 

Keith had worn this jacket almost everyday and Lance had laughed, saying he looked like a cheesy wanna-be badass from the 80’s.

Now grief washed over Lance. He pressed the jacket to his face, the cold leather pressing against his eyelids, blocking everything out. He inhaled deeply, smelling oil and summer and mint and Keith and _oh god_.

As Lance sobbed into Keith’s jacket, he felt a hand on his shoulder. When he dragged his face from his comfort, instead of being met by a worried face with a scar over the bridge of his nose, he was staring into the dark purple eyes covered by darker hair that he loved more than anything.

His heart swelled, but all Lance could do was sit there, wide eyed and paralyzed with shock.

“I told you I'd come back.” Keith smiled. 

More tears leaked out of Lance’s eyes, partly out of relief, and partly as he searched Keith’s face for any sign of anger and regret.

“I'm so sorry.” He sobbed.

Keith frowned. “For what?”

When Lance didn’t reply, he studied him for a moment, regarding the hunch of his shoulders, the crease in his brow, and the clenched fingers around Keith’s favorite jacket. 

“Lance.” Keith said firmly. “This is not your fault.”

Lance’s shoulders shook. “But it is! I'm the only one who knew you were a ghost, and I knew you were in a coma. I should have been trying to save you sooner rather than gathering my own memories about you!” He hiccuped. “Now it’s too late.” 

“It’s okay, Lance. I'm happy as a ghost, really.” Keith paused.”Besides I knew that I was in a coma too, so really I'm to blame. It was my life.”

“Why don't you hate me?” Lance screamed. “ I promised to help you and I failed! If you hadn't gone out for me this never would've happened in the first place. You should be mad at me!”

Lance leaned forward, grabbing Keith by the collar, baring his teeth. “I killed you!”

Although at first glance, Keith looked the same as he did before, now that Lance is so close he could tell there were some differences. Keith felt less present… less whole. The fading sunlight seemed to shine through his translucent skin as the sun sank below the horizon out Keith’s window behind him. 

The heat that radiated off of Keith's body before seemed to intensify as he got angry.

“You didn't kill me and I'm not going to blame you!” Keith furrowed his eyebrows. “I just want you to be happy. You’re going to grow up  and finish school and marry someone who makes you happy and you’re going to raise a beautiful family with so many kids and when they get scared you’ll dance with them on the bed and you’re going to...”

Lance tightened his hold on Keith’s shirt, feeling as though his fingers were going to claw through any second.

“You’re such an idiot!” He screamed. “You make me happy! I don't want any of those things if they’re not with you!”

His face softened and there was barely any space between their faces when he said, “I just want to be by your side. No matter what.” 

Before Lance could blink, Keith’s lips were on his. Lance shuddered with the feel of his fingers on his neck, his intense heat combining with Lance’s body temperature. It was a rough kiss, but it gradually developed into a gentle one as Lance responded.

    “It’s not your fault.” Keith murmured so quietly that Lance barely heard it, pulling away slowly. 

Lance cupped his face, only gracing him with a small hum as an answer before dragging Keith’s face back to his. His hands explored the crevices of Keith's face, where his bones curved, where his hair lined his ears, running his hands through his long hair. Keith played with the hair on the nape of his neck and Lance laughed a little breathlessly as it tickled him. 

Lips burning, they slotted together like they had been puzzle pieces made to fit together. God, there was no way Lance could give this up, no way he could live without Keith. Pain struck like an arrow to the heart, but as he pulled back, Keith moved his hand to brush against Lance’s cheek. His dark eyes shone with love and filled Lance with the calm he needed. 

The skin of Keith’s fingers were rough as he traced all the freckles on Lance’s cheek. Lance leaned into Keith’s touch, drinking in the sweet scent of his hair and the feel of his skin on Keith’s. Keith bumped foreheads with him, his hair tickling Lance’s nose. Lance tilted his head and closed his eyes, pulling Keith back into the kiss. 

Keith’s lips were chapped compared to Lance’s own, which he painstakingly moisturized every morning after brushing his teeth, but they were still soft and he lived to explore all the ridges of them. Keith let out a soft moan and Lance cemented the memory of it in his head, preserving it forever. 

Lance opened his lips wider, and Keith’s tongue tangled with his, exploring the cavern of Lance’s mouth, feeling the peaks of his teeth and relishing in the sweet taste of Lance. Lance’s mouth was hot like a summer day on the beach back home. He breathed heavily, his heart pounding in his chest. He wrapped his arms around Keith, pressing his body as close as he could get it. By the way Keith rutted back, the need for contact was mutual. 

They fell onto the bed, not caring that the bed was still unmade. The sun shone through the window, making Keith glow even more than he was naturally. Lance rolled over, stuck in Keith’s grasp. On the bedside table, was a three windowed frame. One picture was of Keith as a kid with Ms. Shirogane, on the day of his adoption. On the other side was a more recent photo of Keith sulking with Shiro laughing as he wrapped an arm around him. The picture in the center was what caught Lance’s attention though. The center photograph was of Keith and Lance, stuck together like glue, blinding smiles and eyes full of affection. 

Before Lance could really analyze the photo anymore, Keith was trailing kisses down the side of Lance’s neck. Lance let out a quiet moan as Keith sucked on a sensitive spot. Hearing the noise, Keith huffed a laugh and began circling the few freckles that splattered onto Lance’s neck. When Lance made a noise of protest, he only laughed some more and moved up to kiss Lance’s lips again.

High on the feeling of Keith’s embrace and the taste of mint, Lance wanted this moment to last an eternity. Safe and secure in Keith’s company, death would never part the two. Sweat dripped from Lance’s brow, but with his flushed face and panting gasps in the memory of life, Keith didn’t seem to mind. The room was overheating, filled with passion and love.

“Fuck.” Keith said loudly, pulling away from Lance.

“Mmm,” Lance hummed. His lidded eyes opened lazily at the sudden lack of contact. The heat was intense, enough to make him dizzy and the room spun in vibrant oranges and reds, until he realized the room wasn't spinning.

Keith’s bedroom was bathed in flame.

“Holy shit!” Lance exclaimed, no longer in a love struck haze, trying to stomp out the fire that was spreading to one of the piles of clothes on the floor containing Lance’s NASA t-shirt and Keith’s Space Explorer socks.

“Stop, stop!” Keith cried. “It’s not going out, you’ll burn yourself!” 

The clothes were alight with fire and Lance could no longer tell what belonged to who, or even what’s in the pile anymore. 

“Did you set this?” Lance asked.

Keith looked at him, eyes full of guilt and alight with panic.

“I didn't mean to… I was just thinking how amazing you are and how I never wanted to leave, and then…” Keith gestured vaguely at the room around them.

Lance swallowed his panic. “Well the important thing is that since it's your fire, can you stop it?” 

“I don't know.” Keith closed his eyes, trying to focus on quenching the flames, but it didn't seem to be working.

Lance coughed as the fire climbed the walls and he inhaled smoke. 

Contrary to what Keith had warned him, he continued trying to stamp out the fire, to no avail.

“Lance, it’s not working! We need to go!”

Lance turned to Keith to protest. “But Shiro’s hous-”

His protests were interrupted when Keith took his by the arm and roughly dragged him out of the bedroom. Keith could feel the heat of the flames as they stepped through the bedroom door, but they didn't seem to be burning him, so he moved as quickly as he could to get Lance out of the building that would soon be engulfed in flames.

“The house is on fire!” Lance screamed as loudly as his lungs will carry. “Shiro! Pidge! Allura! Hunk! Coran! Ms. Shirogane! Get out, the house is on fire!”

The fire was spreading quickly and Lance coughed, trying to clear his lungs of the smoke. 

Not fast enough, Keith made it to the front lawn, finally letting go of Lance’s arm. They were both sweaty and covered in ash from being in the room where the fire started- and other things. Lance didn't  seem to mind though as he clung to Keith’s hand. They stood for a moment in silence as Keith’s fire consumed the top layer of the house, eating away at the structure. 

A minute later and the rest of the house’s occupants flooded out of the house. Ms. Shirogane was crying again and her son went to comfort her. 

“Lance!” Hunk and Allura cried, rushing up to him, along with Coran. 

“What happened?” Allura asked

“Are you okay?” Hunk fretted, examining every inch of his body for injuries. 

The Shirogane’s had stepped closer to the group to join the conversation. Lance took a deep breath, partly trying to catch his breath, partly trying to steady himself. 

“I’m okay guys. A fire started in Keith’s room and I couldn't put it out. I'm sorry.” He said, turning to the Shirogane’s.

“It’s okay, Lance. I'm just glad you’re safe.” Shiro said.

“How did the fire start?” Hunk asked curiously. 

Lance waved a hand dismissively, rubbing the back of his neck with the other. “It’s kind of a long story and I don't think you’d believe me if I told you.”

Shiro looked like he was about to object, but Coran cut him off.

“The important thing is that everyone is okay. Is anyone injured?”

Lance surveyed the faces before him, studying them for any injuries when suddenly he realised something was amiss. 

Cold panic stabbed him in the chest.

“Guys,” he said slowly. “Where’s Pidge?”

The group looked at one another and panic overtook each of their features. Lance felt paralysed, his limbs slow and heavy. 

“When’s the last time anyone saw them?” Shiro asked, struggling to keep his voice even. 

Lance stared hard at the ground. “When I yelled at them and they left the living room?” 

He waited for someone to interject and say they had seen Pidge after that, but no one did. 

“Has anyone called 911 yet?” Coran asked. “We need to update them that we're missing a person.” 

Everyone shook their heads and Coran moved to the edge of the lawn to make the call. 

They rest of the group convened to discuss where in the house Pidge might be. 

“The kitchen?” Allura suggested.

“No, I was in there.” Hunk replied.

“What about the bathroom?” Shiro asked.

“No, _I_ was in there.” Allura said. 

Shiro frowned. “If they were avoiding Lance, they definitely weren’t in Keith’s room and I don't think they would've gone to my room or my mother’s.”

Lance looked at Keith, his sea blue eyes meeting dark indigo ones.

A look of sorrow passed through Keith’s eyes as he read Lance’s face. Lance squeezed his hand.

“I have to do this.”

“Do what?” Allura asked as the group turned towards the sound of Lance’s voice. Lance didn't break eye contact with Keith and his grip on his hand remained firm as the flames roared in the distance.

“Pidge means the world to me, they're like my honorary younger sibling. I can't leave things like they are.” His eyes bore into Keith’s. “Besides, saving a life is the only way I'll ever be able to partly pay the debt I created by killing you.”

Keith opened his mouth to protest, but Hunk stepped towards Lance.

“Hey buddy, are you feeling okay?” He asked gently, reaching a hand out for Lance. 

Before anyone could blink, Lance had let go of Keith’s hand, leaving an absence that could not be filled and had ducked under Hunk’s outstretched hand. He was sprinting back towards the blazing house.

“Lance!” His friends, Keith included, screamed. 

In mere moments, Lance was swallowed up by the fire once again. 

Lance dragged his shirt over his nose and mouth, trying to block out as much smoke as he could. The effort was futile though because the entire house was smoldering. 

“Pidge!” Lance screamed. “Pigeon, please respond!” 

The first floor of the house was mostly intact, but the fire was climbing down the stairs and spreading to the lower floor of the Shirogane’s house. Jumping over and around the flames, Lance started to ascend the stairs. It was probably safe to assume Pidge wasn’t on the first floor because then they could get out themselves. 

Unlike the first floor, the second was burning quickly, and the heat was so intense Lance could feel his skin begin to blister. Nevertheless, he pushed on, trying to make his way through the dancing flames without any of them catching him.

Reaching the top of the stairs, Lance peered into some of the doors at the top. Shiro’s room, filled with books and gym equipment, was alight, but empty. His mother’s room, simple and tidy, was the same. Closest to Keith’s room was a bathroom and an office, both swallowed by the flames as a result of being so close to the initial starting place of the fire. At the end of the hall, in front of Keith’s door, debris had fallen, blocking the way towards the charred end of the house that had once been Keith’s room. 

“Pidge!” Lance screamed, voice becoming hoarse. 

The door to the office was blocked by something that had been eaten away by the fire and lost all support, making the door only able to open a few inches. He kicked the door, trying to push whatever was in the way out. The door didn’t budge, didn’t even splinter. Aggravated, he kicked it again.

    “Lance!” 

Lance swung around, looking for the source of the voice. It didn’t sound like it was coming from the office, so Lance abandoned his attempt to break in. 

    “Over here, Lance!” Pidge’s voice croaked, raspy and dry.

Lance peered through the debris, part of the ceiling that had fallen through, until he could make out dirty pale skin and brown locks. Pidge’s glasses had fogged up with the heat and they were covered in soot and sweat. Tears ran freely down their face. 

    “I’m sorry, Lance! I know losing Keith was hard on you and that we shouldn’t have kept it from you. I was looking to apologize to you because I would have been mad if I was in your place, too.” they said, coughing into their sleeve. They pulled up their shirt over their nose, trying to block out the smoke. 

Lance shook his head. He ripped off part of his shirt and wrapped his hands in the strips. Using his makeshift gloves, he started pulling away the burning rubble. Seeing what he was doing, Pidge followed suit, ripping the hem of their own shirt to help.

    “No, I should be apologizing to you.” Lance said, gritting his teeth as he tried to ignore the heat burning through the rags. “Keith was like a brother to you and it wasn’t right of me to treat you guys like you didn’t care about what was best for him.”

Lance coughed harshly as he inhaled a plume of ash that he uncovered by removing a layer of the debris. The hole still wasn’t big enough for Pidge to step through, which was saying something considering they had such a small frame. He doubled over for a moment, coughs raking his chest. A hand touched his shoulder. 

    “Keith?” Lance asked, turning around to see the pale boy standing among the burning  flames. 

    “Keith?” Pidge asked, looking at Lance is confusion. 

    “Step back, Lance. I think I can move this for you.”

    “Lance? What’s going on?” 

Lance eyed Pidge through the wreckage. Concern was clearly written on their face, their brows peaked upwards. He glanced at Keith, who gave him a reassuring nod and moved to burn some of the wreckage away. Lance reached through the hole he had made, grasping Pidge’s hand. 

    “You’re not going to believe me, but I can see Keith’s ghost.”

    Pidge’s eyes widened. “What?” They peered through the gap, trying to see Keith.

    “I know it sounds crazy,” Lance said, “but it’s true. Ever since I came out of the hospital. I didn’t know I knew him and I was helping him find out what happened to him. 

Keith focused all his energy on the pile of rubble blocking Pidge away from them and focused all the heat he could on it, careful not to burn Pidge or Lance who were standing very close. 

    If possible, Pidge’s eyes opened even wider as realization dawned on their face. “That’s why you were asking me about the cemetery records!” They coughed, the force knocking their glasses crooked. They readjusted their glasses, face dirty and hair messed up. “God, Lance, I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you the truth.”

Lance squeezed their hand. “It’s okay, really. All is forgiven, but we really need to get you out of here.”

The last of the pile caved away, and Keith tried to soothe the flames. There was too much fire to entirely put out, but he was getting better at handling it in small bursts. 

    “Thanks, Keith.” Lance said, shirt still pulled over his mouth and nose, hands still wrapped. 

Pidge looked at the spot that Lance was addressing. 

    “I can’t see anything.” They lamented.

Still holding Pidge’s hand, Lance took Keith’s with his other. 

    “He’s here, Pigeon.” Lance said.

Taking a step towards Pidge, Keith ruffled their hair with his free hand. They felt the motion and looked up to where Keith’s face was.

“Thanks for helping, Keith. Me and Lance.” They said, breathing heavily. 

Pulling a face of mock indignance, Lance cried, “Hey, I don’t need any help!”

Swaying on their feet and blinking heavily, Pidge laughed raspily. “Sure thing, Lancelot. Don’t worry, you’ll always be my knight in shining armor.”

Together, the trio pushed their way back down the hall. They were covered in ash, soot, and sweat. Keith glowed a little and tried to soothe the flames as they made their way through the skeleton of the upper floor. Pidge leaned heavily on Lance’s arm. 

As they got to the top of the stairs, the room creaked and another part of the ceiling crashed from above.

    “Fuck!” Lance cursed, dragging Pidge out of the way. As he swung them out of the way, they fell to the floor and a piece of burning wood struck Lance on the shoulder. He screamed in pain, his hand clutching his burned shoulder.

“Lance!” Keith cried, but Lance waved his comfort away. They needed to get out of here. They needed to get Pidge out of here. Swearing through the pain and blinking away the tears, he crawled towards Pidge, who hadn’t moved from where they lay on the floor. 

    “Stay with me, Pigeon.” Lance said, breathing heavily at this point.   
      
    “Everything’s really blurry.” Pidge murmured, their voice so hoarse it was barely there. 

Keith exchanged a look with Lance. “They’re overheating, they’ve been here for too long.”

Huffing for breath and letting his shirt slip from over his mouth and nose, Lance slid one arm under Pidge’s legs and one behind their back, lifting them from the ground and hoisting them over his uninjured shoulder. His injured shoulder raged silently, but he ignored the feeling. They protested weakly, but leaned their head against Lance’s chest, eyes fluttering as they panted for air. 

Carefully, but as quickly as possible, Lance and Keith made their way to where the front door of the Shirogane’s stood. The fire had spread to the lower floor at this point, starting to eat away at the surplus of wooden furniture around. Lance’s shoulder screamed in pain, burning red hot. Shifting Pidge heavily into the support of one arm, Lance went to reach for the doorknob, but Keith grabbed his arm. 

    “That doorknob is metal. Those bandages aren’t going to stop you from getting burned.”

In the blink of an eye, Keith disappeared, stepping through the door as if it had never been there. With the turn of the knob, he opened the door from the other side, pushing it in and leaving a path to freedom from this fiery hell. 

    “It’s less hot on the side of the house that’s not burning.” He explained. 

In a blaze of fire and glory, Lance reappeared in the doorway of the ruined house of the Shirogane’s. He cradled Pidge in his arms, their arms laced around his neck, face buried.

He stumbled out of the house, tan skin darkened with soot and ash. His skin burned as if he had fallen asleep on the beach with no sunscreen, but ten times worse. 

He was so tired and everything hurt. He needed to make sure Pidge was safe though. The yard seemed to stretch endlessly before him, a sea between his friends and him. As he zombie walked across the yard, his friends cheered and rushed towards him. Shiro took Pidge from his arms and Lance could feel and hear his friends fussing around him, but suddenly his eyes were too heavy to keep open. Everything was too heavy.

He collapsed, sinking into a pile of exhaustion and hurt, his lungs heaving as they tried to push air through the amount of smoke he had just inhaled, his heart reeling.

He was vaguely aware of all his friends hovering around him as he laid back in the grass, but the only thing his brain was able to actually process was the warm hand intertwined with his own, refusing to let go, burning almost as hot as he shoulder was. He would get burned over and over for this boy.

He could kind of hear Shiro and Coran and Allura and Hunk calling his name, vaguely felt as Pidge’s tears fell onto his cheek, and almost made out the sound of sirens in the distance.

But he’s looking up at the sky, almost as black as his ash covered skin, and he was reminded of nights back home, where the sky was so clear he could count the stars. He couldn't see the stars tonight because the fire of Shiro’s house was too bright.

But it was okay.

In his mind’s eye, he could see himself and Keith sitting on the roof of his mom’s house on the beach, listening to the sound of waves crashing against the shore, pointing out constellations and telling each other stories they had heard a thousand times before but that never got old as long as they were coming from the other’s mouth. He was glad he got to take Keith.

The stars there were bright and clear. 

Lance closed his eyes and the sounds fell around him, replaced by the crashing of waves. The only thing that remained was the feeling of Keith’s hand in his, until even that is no more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn't the end. 
> 
>  
> 
> Feel free to scream at me in the comments or at my tumblr: androgynoussnark


	15. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end. Or is it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *throws confetti in the air* We've made it to the end everyone! I've been nursing this story since May, so honestly I'm a little sad to see it end, but all good things must come to an end. Thank you all for reading, I hope you've enjoyed reading this as much as I've enjoyed writing it. Hopefully in the next month or two I'll begin a klance fantasy AU. I've just finished planning it, so all that's left is finding the time to write it. I hope to see you on that adventure as well ;) 
> 
> If you want to talk, here's my tumblr: androgynoussnark

From the darkness, Lance felt a pulling sensation in his chest, hard and burning. He blinked the sleep from his eyes, his world clarifying in front of him. In front of him, his prone body lay in the grass. His friends called his name through their tears and a minute later, an ambulance pulled into the Shirogane’s driveway, paramedics rushing out to examine his body. 

It was very strange to see his own body from above. It didn’t even look like his body. The skin he had worked so painstakingly to keep smooth and soft looked dry and reddened in any place that wasn’t covered in the paint of the ash. He lay so still on the grass, his eyes open and glassily reflecting the sky above. His shoulder looked especially awful, where he had gotten burned the worst. As the paramedics tried to get to his body, Pidge wailed and had to be pulled back by Allura. 

A small cough came from behind Lance and he turned away from the distressing scene. Keith sat on the grass, a few feet away from where Lance’s body was being fussed over. 

He sat casually, palms splayed in the grass, legs crossed casually, but his eyes were as red as his jacket and he tapped his fingers impatiently.

Joy rushed through Lance’s chest and he tackled Keith, pushing him to the ground and wrapping his arms around his neck.

Keith scowled, brushing the grass out of his hair. “Took you long enough, idiot.” Despite his expression, the words were said with a certain fondness.

“ _I_ never promised you I would come back.” Lance said innocently. 

Keith mumbled something into his shoulder, too quiet and muffled to hear, pulling him into a bone-crushing hug. 

Lance squeezed him back, carding a hand through his hair, taking in his scent and his warmth. Despite everything, he was happy Keith was here for him.

About a week later, Keith and Lance sat together at the top of the hill, overlooking the funeral procession. The day was overshadowed by gray clouds, but it was neither hot nor cold, just the right weather for the mourners without being intrusive.  

They sat in silence, hands intertwined.

Their friends and family, assembled around two mahogany coffins that laid side by side, were dressed in black, lying white flowers on the surface of the boxes around portraits of each Keith and Lance respectively.

They watched as the Shirogane’s carefully placed their flowers neatly on the coffins, as the McClain’s fussed over the arrangement of all of theirs, as Hunk gently put his own down, as Allura and Coran graced the face of the coffin with theirs, and as Pidge stepped up to do the same. 

The boys waited, silently watching from the hill above.

Slowly, they walked up to Keith’s coffin. They ran their hand over the smooth wood and gently placed the flower next to where Shiro had placed his. Their eyes lingered before they moved on to Lance’s coffin. 

Nestled on the hill, the two boys held the breath they no longer had. 

For a minute, Pidge just stood there, staring at his coffin as if they had the power to revive the dead with just the will of thought. Then, slowly, hesitantly, they reached out, placing one hand on the wood. With the other hand, they placed the white flowers at the center of the arrangement. 

For a minute, Keith thought they were going to turn away and leave, but then they leaned down to the cover of the coffin. Lance sat very still. 

Pidge’s lips moved as they whispered something to Lance’s body inside the box and in the next moment, they had stood up and were moving on, returning to their spot next to Hunk. Hunk threw an arm over their shoulders. 

Keith looked at Lance, but he kept his eyes trained on Pidge. 

The funeral continued and people stepped up to the podium to share their eulogies and memories.

Lance’s family, large and unusually solemn stepped up first. Lance’s mom was the first to speak. She dressed nicely, a simple black dress, her dark brown hair flowing over her shoulders. Her eyes were red and her eyeliner was slightly smudged underneath.

She talked about what a great son, brother, and uncle Lance was. She shared the story of how he was so impatient to be born, he was nearly born on the way to the hospital, which is a tale she told with such joy, it’s not hard to wipe her features of 22 additional years and imagine her in the hospital, holding baby Lance in her arms with a smile on her face, just like in that picture Keith had seen. 

She continued with how that same impatience translated into his energy and love to live life fast and the way he wanted. She ended with how Lance would often call her on the phone after he moved away from home, and how he would always tell her he loved her before ending the call. 

“No matter what, mijo,” She paused, her accent becoming clearer as she spoke in her native tongue, wiping away some tears and smudging her eyeliner a little more in the process. “Yo tambien te amo.”

Lance made a small whimpering noise. Keith moved a little closer, not letting go of his hand. In response, Lance leaned his head on Keith’s shoulder. 

His older siblings came up next to tell some stories about him, mostly about how he was always there to make them smile. 

His oldest sister talked about how great Lance was with kids and how he would dance with her daughter and read her stories while he babysitted so that she could go out on dates with her husband.

Next his brother talked about how when they were younger, he convinced Lance that swearing in front of their mom was the equivalent to saying please and thank you. With nothing but admiration and trust for his older brother, Lance strode into the kitchen with the confidence and pride of a king, his older brother following behind him. When their mother asked what they wanted for breakfast, his brother gave him a discreet nod and Lance repeated the given phrase. “I sure as hell would like some damn apple juice,” he had said boldly. Their mother froze, dropping the cups she was holding in shock. Faster than either boy could blink, she was across the room, scolding Lance for saying curse words and cuffing his brother for teaching him them.

“Home will never be what it was without teasing my brother and waking up to have breakfast with him, but even though he’s gone, he’ll be my little brother forever.” He finished, tears rolling down his cheeks.

Ms. Shirogane went next, telling the story of the day she adopted Keith and how excited she was to bring Keith into their family. When she introduced four year old Keith, clinging to a small backpack holding everything he owned, to Shiro, 11 at the time, Shiro immediately declared he was going to be the best big brother ever. She couldn’t explain the joy she had from being able to have the immense pleasure of watching their bond grow over the years. 

Tears started flowing as she spoke, so when it was done, she stepped down from the podium, accepting a handkerchief from Allura to wipe her tears, even though she could have told endless stories of her youngest son. 

In place of his mother, Shiro stepped up to the podium. 

“The story my mother told you is true, but I think Keith won the award for best brother. He always supported me and would have bent over backwards for me if I asked him to and I know he loved me as deeply as I loved him.” Shiro’s voice broke a little, but he steadied himself. “I always respected Keith for how he was always dedicated to the things he loved. Once I helped him build a model rocket for his 2nd grade science class and after that, he was set on being a pilot at the Garrison.” Shiro smiled, scratching the back of his neck. “I was so proud of him when he enrolled and became the best pilot in his class. He had grown so much from that quiet, down-on-his-luck four year old I first met.” Shiro’s fingers clenched on the podium as he continued to speak.

“I lost not only my little brother today, but also a great friend. Lance was known for being a bit flamboyant and as some of his friends might phrase it, a bit “extra”, but he always threw himself into whatever he was doing, full force with dedication and care. He was an immensely caring person, who would always come if you called.” Shiro grinned. “One time? I burnt a cake I was making for my mom’s birthday and I was freaking out, so he told me to calm down. A half hour later, he showed up on my doorstep, with all new materials and helped me make an even better one.” The smile grew a little sadder. “I'm sure you all know this, but he died saving one of our friends from a fire and we will be eternally grateful that he cared so much about his friends.”

Everyone was silent for a minute before Shiro cracked another weak smile. 

“As much as these two meant to me, I think we need to acknowledge what they meant to each other. I don't know if Keith and Lance were the best thing for each other or the worst.”

Pidge and Hunk suppressed small smiles. 

“Lance was the impulse control to Keith’s rash thoughts, since he was always a kind of “action first” sort of guy, and Keith was the person who pushed Lance to keep working and doing new things, especially when he was doubting himself. They were each other’s balance. However,” Shiro’s voice deepened and the people closest to the two parted chuckled quietly and gave small smiles to Shiro.

“They were always finding ways to get in trouble together and I got more than one phone call from Keith asking for help to bail them out.” Shiro smiled fondly. “And they couldn’t do anything without making it a competition. If I didn't know any better, I’d think they were two steps from murdering each other sometimes. But despite their competitiveness and gift for trouble, I know that Lance cared for my brother as much as I did and he was always when someone needed him. I know that Keith loved Lance as fiercely as he loved me. It will never be the same without the two of them here and a day will never go by where I don't think of either of them. Not only were they great friends to us,” Shiro said, gesturing to himself and then to Pidge and Hunk standing on the sidelines, “but Keith and Lance were there for each other in thick and thin, and I hope if there is an afterlife, they will continue to be.”

The audience clapped as Shiro stepped down from the podium. He looked at Pidge and Hunk, who were still leaning up against one another, but they shook their heads and clapped him on the back when he stood next to him. 

When everyone had gone to offer their condolences to the two grieving families, Lance and Keith rose from the hill, taking with them the packages they’ve brought. 

As they approached the coffins, Keith squeezed Lance’s hand. Lance squeezed back before letting go in favor of moving towards Keith’s coffin. They stood next to each other’s coffins, as silent as they were on the hill, but exchanging looks that spoke more volume than words ever could.

Carefully, they unwrapped the packages they had brought. The thorns sharp, but the flowers fragrant, Keith laid down a bouquet of white roses, baby’s breath, and red marigolds onto the center of the flowers already placed. Lance followed suit with his bouquet of white roses, baby’s breath, and blue delphiniums on Keith’s coffin. 

They move back together, reconnecting at the hand, overlooking the coffins in silence when the hear voices behind them. 

“I have to say goodbye one more time.”

“And I have to say thank you again.”

“I wish I could give them one last hug. I guess a pat on the coffin will have to do.”

Keith and Lance turned around to see Shiro, Hunk, and Pidge approaching them. 

The three stopped dead in their tracks when they see the new addition to the decorations. 

“Is that…?” Pidge asked.

Shiro appeared too stunned to speak, but Hunk nodded slowly.

“I'm guessing none of you left these?” He asked.

The three exchanged looks and shook their heads. 

“Allura, maybe? She does work in a flower shop, after all.” Shiro said, looking unconvinced.

“She didn't have them before.” Pidge said thoughtfully. “But maybe.”

Hunk stroked a petal of the red marigold and promptly burst into tears.

“Why? Why them? Lance has been my best friend since we were kids and all I ever wanted for him was to be as happy as he made me,” Hunk sobbed. “When he and Keith started dating I thought maybe…”

Shiro and Pidge stepped forward to comfort Hunk but they didn't make it very far before their own tears started. 

Before they could recompose themselves, Lance stepped in between them and wrapped his arms around Hunk. 

“Here’s a hug for all the ones you gave me, buddy.” He said.

Hunk didn't reply, but his sobs stopped with a shudder and he blinked the last of his tears away before wiping his eyes and inhaling deeply. He seemed to be comforted for a moment, even if he couldn't tell exactly what was happening.

Keith placed his hand on Shiro’s shoulder. When he straightened up, Keith moved in for a hug, probably the only one he had ever willingly given and not taken from Shiro. He buried his face in the warmth of Shiro’s sweater, enjoying the familiarity of his brother and in seconds, Shiro had relaxed into Keith’s grip.

“Thanks for being the best older brother a kid like me could ask for.”

When both Keith and Lance had let go of their respective hugging partners, they both stepped towards Pidge, who was sniffling quietly, tears falling to the grass like raindrops. 

Lance wrapped Pidge in a hug, his long arms almost doubling around their thin waist. Keith ruffled their hair, tousling the messy locks between his fingers.

They took a deep breath, adjusting the glasses on the bridge of their nose and looked up at the cloudy sky above. 

“I bet their ghosts did this.” Pidge said.

Keith and Lance both pulled away, startled.

Hunk and Shiro looked at them quizzically.

Pidge shrugged. “They’re sappy shits. This is totally the kind of shit they’d pull.”

Hunk thought about that for a minute. “You know, you’re right.”

Keith and Lance simultaneously let out a sigh of relief. Pidge’s eyes seemed to linger on the space they were occupying for a moment.

“Y’know,” Shiro said, eyes glinting mischievously, “I wanted to write a joke into the eulogy because I knew Lance would appreciate it and it would make Keith groan, but I left it out because funerals are for the living and all that jazz.”

“What?” Lance said, faking indignance. “My funeral wasn't for me?” 

“What was the joke?” Pidge asked curiously.

Shiro looked at them solemnly. “We always said the trouble they got up to was going to lead them to an early grave.”

Shiro chuckled and a minute later, they were all laughing a little.

“That’s terrible!” Hunk said, still laughing.

“Which part? The joke or where I used it?”

“Both!” Hunk grinned.

Shiro ruffled Pidge’s hair, in a way so similar it made it clear where Keith had picked up the action. They wiped the tears out of the corner of their eyes and whether it was from grieving or laughing, no one could say. Together, the trio trudged away from the coffins, back to where their friends and families were waiting, feeling the weight they had been carrying was significantly lighter.

A while later, the coffins were lowered into two holes in the ground, side by side. Two headstones sat next to each other, each with their own unique inscription. 

As dirt was thrown over the boxes, the group said their last goodbyes to the departed and then departed themselves from the site, hugging each other and murmuring reassurances quietly, until only Lance and Keith remained. 

As they stood on top of the freshly packed dirt that had filled the holes, Lance bent down to trace the letters of his name. Keith watched silently, his hands in his pockets. 

“I'm kind of scared.” Lance admitted.

Keith offered a hand and looked down at Lance shyly. 

“May I have this dance?” 

Lance blinked at the hand in his face, but after a moment, a small, fond smile worked its way onto his face and he accepted the hand.

Keith pulled him up and tried to mimic the way Lance had held him on the night of the rainstorm. It felt like a lifetime ago. 

Even so, they clasped hands and swayed in time to music only they could hear.

Step backwards, step forwards, swaying in time to the music.

Keith spun Lance around and he laughed loudly. When Lance spun back around to face Keith, the grin was still present on his lips. 

Lance leaned in and kissed Keith, lips softer in death, and for a minute they stood, lip-locked, hand in hand. 

As they pulled away from each other, a raindrop fell on Lance’s cheek. He didn't flinch, but rather allowed it to roll down his skin, smiling softly. 

Soon, the rain was no longer avoidable as it fell from the sky, light and pleasant, splattering the pavement and watering the flowers.

Lance and Keith danced throughout the night, the soil of their graves soft under their feet, the sound of rain acting as a sort of music.

Keith gripped Lance’s hand, hoping it conveyed just how much he loved the boy in front of him. The look of Lance’s face said that he had received the message loud and clear, and returned it tenfold. 

“Are you ready?” Keith asked.

He held out his hand again and Lance took it in his own, warm from dancing.

Lance leaned in and stole one last kiss, sweet and simple, slow and meaningful.

“Promise you won't let go?” He asked.

“Promise.”

As they looked up at the sky, they noticed the clouds had parted and the sky was clear enough to see all the stars, peppering the night. Silently, Lance thanked the stars for one last night with Keith under the night sky.

Slowly, as they danced in the wet soil, their forms unravelled, dispersing into the sky in threads of blue and red, dancing with the stars in the sky. 

The two held hands as they wandered the sky for all eternity together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And it all ties together. I hope this was a semi happy kind of ending. 
> 
> Once again, thank you so much for your continued support. Please leave your thoughts and feelings in the comments. What did you like? What didn't you? Anything you have to scream at me to release that pent up rage? I'm done making you cry, so now it's your turn. 
> 
> Until next time <3


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